At Rock Bottom and Looking Up
by charrrmed
Summary: Traumatized by the Salvatores' betrayal, Bonnie hasn't been able to leave her house. That changes after a late afternoon with Jeremy, and she decides to go to the decade dance where she's confronted with those responsible for her hermit state. When the others discover that no one can leave the dance, Bonnie sets the terms for the use of her magic going forward.
1. Chapter 1

**Kinks: Anal play/Rimming/Analingus! You've been warned! There's also sex magic.**

**Timeline**: 3.20 AU

**Characters**: Bonnie Bennett, Jeremy Gilbert, Klaus Mikaelson, Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, Damon Salvatore, Matt Donovan, Stefan Salvatore, and Tyler Lockwood.

**A/N**: I've created an AO3 account using the same screen name as I do here. I'll continue posting my racy stories here, but in case ff ever takes them down, know that they're also posted on AO3.

**Chapter 1: At Her Core**

Bulbs, shrubs, and herbs. Bonnie rested her socked feet on the small coffee table, something her father always chastised her for, while she flipped through the newest issue of Better Homes and Garden, which she'd picked up when she'd stepped out to buy eggs and bread. The lamp on the side table next to her chair illuminated the perennials on the glossy page. She also liked the annuals and hoped she would move from planting them in her mind to actually starting a garden.

She needed a hobby. She hadn't stepped in her usual karaoke bar in almost a year. She used to get phone calls from her singing buddies, but after the sixth "I'm really sorry, there's just a lot going on" without further explanation, the calls had severely dwindled. Only two people continued to make an effort now and then.

She needed a new hobby, one that didn't involve people. She couldn't handle people right now. For the past three days, she'd gone from home to school and back home. It was the weekend now, Saturday, and the decade dance would be taking place tonight. She'd made a pre-emptive strike two days ago by calling Caroline to let her know she wasn't going, and then she'd turned her phone off. She was still reeling from her encounter with Klaus. She didn't spend much time thinking about it, preferring instead to count the hours until the sun set. Evening was now her favorite time. The daylight's sun threatened to shine on emotions she wasn't ready to explore, ugly truths she wasn't ready to make part of her day to day existence.

After the hours spent under Klaus' vigilant eyes and deceptively patient words and after slumping against her car, she'd pulled herself up and driven home with the minuscule emotional strength she had left. The small amount of energy had held her together while she'd called Jaime and, with a normal voice, had asked him if he'd heard from Abby. Just checking, she'd answered when he'd asked her why. She could hear in his voice that he wasn't okay. So in order to stall the inevitable moment when she would mentally go over her day, she'd asked him how he was doing. And while he'd tried to put his feelings into words, while he'd marveled at how quickly his life had changed, while he'd hoped Abby was okay, she'd pictured going to the woman's funeral and opening the casket to find that they'd stuffed pieces of her in there. The eyes looked at her without emotion because they had no relationship to speak of. Maybe the emotions would be there when Jaime looked. And when the boy on the other end of the line mentioned how Abby had managed to stay away from all of this and as soon as she got back in it...he hadn't completed the thought, and she hadn't responded. He'd jumped to smooth over the accusation. No offense meant, he'd said. She hadn't taken any, because she'd decided he'd spoken the truth. It was a truth she'd thought many times. She never should've gone to Abby, never should've asked for her help. She should've continued trying on her own, just like she always had. She should've listened when the woman had said no, don't open the coffin. But her childish heart, her vindictive heart had driven her to push Abby because it was the least the woman could do. They needed the coffin open, there was no time for doubts or hesitation.

They.

Just get it done, no time for personal problems or misgivings. That was how she had felt about Abby. She surmised that was how Klaus had felt about her four days ago. She knew without a doubt that that's how Damon and Stefan felt towards her. She now heard it in her memory of their voices, and she wondered why she hadn't heard it at the time. Just as her brain started contemplating the concept of hindsight, she flipped to a particularly beautiful hanging basket arrangement.

She knocked her bare knees together to relieve them of the cold from the blasting air conditioner and passively thought for the fifth time about turning the temperature up.

The quiet engine of a car caught her attention, and from the way the sound drew nearer, she knew someone was pulling into her driveway. She didn't move when they knocked, and she contemplated letting them get bored and leave. She was positive that it wasn't Caroline or Elena. It was late afternoon; the dance was in two hours. Surely they were just now starting to get ready.

The knock turned insistent and her heart rate revved up anxiously to match the pounding. Sighing, she set the magazine on her thighs and dry-washed her face. That right there was one reason she preferred to be away from people nowadays.

"Bonnie?"

Her hands paused on her face at the familiar voice. She stood and fixed her dark purple shorts.

"Bonnie!"

The window, next to her. Jeremy. Three steps, and she lifted a blind and saw him with his hands cupped around his mouth. She let the blind fall before she could register anything about him. A brisk walk around, and she was at the door. When she flung it open she stared at him, and he stared at her, and she wondered why her movements were so erratic. Her heart still thudded.

"Hey."

She stared at his face, waiting for any changes to manifest. He looked a bit bigger than before but that could be because he was wearing a flannel on top of his shirt.

"Bonnie?"

She'd seen that look many times before. The head tilt forward, the quirk of his eyebrows, the narrowed eyes boring into her face. Opposing emotions enveloped her. She felt like she'd finally stumbled onto something familiar, something recognizable, something private. And it did nothing for her. She found no comfort in it.

"Hi," she responded at last with a smile. Something in the tone of her voice made him visibly relax.

"Hi."

She would've stood there and stared if he didn't ask her for an invitation. She twisted her mouth in consideration. "I don't know."

He chuckled and walked in.

"So it is you," she said as she closed the door.

"What, did you think I'd been turned?"

She ignored the friendly deepness of his voice. When had she last heard it? "No. I'm just surprised to see you here."

"So you knew I was back."

"Elena called the house two days ago. I'm sorry I haven't come by to see you," she said, putting her hands on her waist.

"No you're not," he said without malice.

There was an immediate change behind her eyelids at the softness of his voice. She hoped he didn't keep that up. She was of the opinion that she'd cried for the last time outside of Klaus' mansion. She was of the opinion that she had no more tears to shed. She did not want to be proven wrong. Because the last bout of crying had left her feeling spent, empty...weak. Docile.

Wanting to avoid her train of thought, she changed the subject. "How was Denver?"

"How are you doing?"

She inhaled. "I'm fine."

"So was Denver."

His response was quick and pointed enough to get her instinct going. She looked into his eyes and he looked into hers. She saw the tightness around his mouth, a tell he could never hide. "You know," she said slowly.

"What happened?"

Unlike her, he wasn't talking about the reason he'd gone to Denver. She breathed again and closed her eyes. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked when she opened them.

Licking his lips as he wondered how long her tactic was going to last, he accepted her stall.

She poured two cups of Arizona Lemon Tea while he took a seat at the dinner table in front of the island that stretched from the wall and separated the kitchen from the dining room.

"I can help," he volunteered, standing to do just that, but she declined and told him to remain seated. He watched her do her preparations, first depositing the cups on the table and then leaving to get the snacks. She was focused but she wasn't paying attention to what she was doing. He figured she was going over all of the methods she had to help her avoid his questions. He had a strong feeling that her being so tight-lipped meant she hadn't talked. To anyone. Not in a way that mattered. Not in a way where she was able to say what she really felt. She'd been like that towards him when they'd first become friends.

"Uh. I have chips and salsa," she declared as she held up the already-opened bag and the bowl of salsa. "I made it. The salsa, I mean."

"Bring it," he said, playing a fast beat on the table.

She smiled with teeth fully on display, something she hadn't done since before Caroline handed her Abby's goodbye letter. She read the two page spread every time she wanted to be reminded of the state of her life. Coming to the six-person table, she set their food down and took the seat opposite him.

The crunch of chips and the swallow of iced tea filled the room for several minutes as they shared the dipping bowl. No eye-contact was made, not until she made another pre-emptive strike. "When did you figure it out?"

She was surprised when he didn't resist the question. But she knew her turn was coming.

"There is no figuring out compulsion, I don't think. Elena told me."

Another surprise. "She did?"

"Mmm-hmm."

She watched his jaw work. She knew it was because of more than the spiciness of the salsa. "What did you...say? What did you do?"

He looked at her, and his dark brown eyes became intense again. She was captivated. It was as if his bone structure became more fine, more chiseled, all very handsome. She cocked her head slightly, but he continued before she could contemplate the new descriptor. She'd never mentally described him with that word before.

"I'm crashing at Matt's. She told me the morning we got back."

He sounded completely detached from what he was saying. It mirrored how she felt. Except she hated the feeling. It reeked of defeat, yet she couldn't help herself. But detachment was unnatural on Jeremy; he should be talking; his anger should be written all over his face; it should be apparent in his eyes; his anger at his sister and Alaric and Damon should not be...cold. And yet it was, and that worried her. In her current emotional state, she didn't want to be worried about him, but she was. So she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I asked you first."

His gaze pierced her heart. He seemed to be daring her to speak. She watched frustration birth lines on his forehead. Familiarity and knowing walked into his eyes. He knew her. He knew there were things she wanted to say, a lot of things she wanted to say. But she was over wanting to say anything. She'd worked it all out in her head. She was very good at that. And once it was worked out in her head, what need was there to speak? So silence birthed twin lines on her forehead to match his. Her lips tightened, then pouted, then tightened again as she swallowed the words and emotions that would be worked out in her brain. They engaged in a staring contest, and he was way too comfortable, too content in his knowing of her. He was too patient, sure that she would crack, sure that she wouldn't be able to help it. And because of that, her stare turned contemptuous and the lines on her forehead deepened into a frown. Her upper lip twitched. His mouth worked like he was about to say something, and she gave, spinning out of her chair and walking away from him with an audible sound of disgust and exasperation.

She heard him hot on her heels, and she had to put a stop to it. "Jeremy, don't," she emphasized in warning. She heard him stop and breathed easier, but his body heat still pressed insistently against her back, something she knew was only in her head because he was in the middle of the living room while she'd almost made it to her reading spot. She turned and one of her hands found her waist while she held the other in a stop signal. "Just stay where you are right now. Please."

She tried to catch her breath, and she wanted to stop doing that, because the more she attempted to breathe the more it felt like she was breaking down, like she was expelling her armor chunk by chunk with every exhale. It couldn't be that easy. She hadn't been able to face the truth while alone; admitting things to herself was like pulling teeth, but he could walk in here, stare at her, and just like that she was ready to pass out? Catching her breath was proving to be a real problem. And how dare he still have that look on his face?

The sound of her hitching breath filled the room for several minutes as Jeremy stared at her. He couldn't help it. The more he watched her fight, and the harder she fought, the more beautiful he found her. She didn't half-ass anything. Especially when it was something she didn't want. If she didn't want to deal with something, if she didn't want to feel something, if she didn't want to talk about something, then there was barely any getting around it. And he knew his absence, more than their brief history as boyfriend and girlfriend and how that had ended, was what bolstered her resistance against him. But she was breaking before his very eyes. And he hated it. He hated that she had enough reasons to break in the first place.

Soon Bonnie was inhaling despite herself. Her upper lip pulled toward her nostrils, and she wanted to hide. The sound hitting her ear drums, a helpless, uncontrollable sob, made her feel uncomfortable. She wanted to curl in on herself.

Jeremy wanted to look away, to give her privacy because he knew this was killing her, but privacy would only allow her to batten down the hatches again. Instead, he walked closer.

"Jeremy stop." Her voice abandoned her on the second word. Suddenly she got a handle on her breathing. Just in time for her face to crumble.

Jeremy stood where she'd stopped him, and her giant, stuttering sob finally made him turn his head and close his eyes. He should've come by earlier, but the betrayal of his sister had crippled him so much that he hadn't been able to. Instead he'd bizarrely accepted her invitation to help decorate for the 20s dance. It was an olive branch on her part, one he wasn't interested in, but he didn't know what else to do. So he'd gone, and he'd helped, and Caroline's complaints and excitement had skidded on his nerves, and his sister's hope for forgiveness every time they made eye contact had angered him, and Matt being his friend had tired him out, so he'd finally left. Elena had asked where he was going, and he'd ignored her. He'd driven around and had finally composed himself enough to come here.

Bonnie held her hand to her mouth as she cried, the move a last ditch effort to hold in what she had left. But once she started she couldn't stop, and it was worse than crying outside of Klaus' house because this was a response to the amalgamation of everything. This was a response to her not crying enough. This was a response to how helpless she felt, and _this_ was going to make her feel more helpless afterward, she was sure. And for a moment she wondered what she would be left with if she cried it all out. What was at her core at the moment, hidden beneath the layers of things left unsaid? She could not, must not, find out.

The smell of his body spray drew nearer and then hands held her upper arms. "No," she protested feebly, because she must not find out. He pulled her in, and he was too slow and too delicate with her, a stark contrast to everything that had happened to her the past two weeks, the way she'd been treated, the way she'd been spoken to, the way she'd felt. Because even as she'd slumped against her car and cried her eyes out, she hadn't felt fragile or delicate. Abby leaving her again hadn't been delicate. Fragility had been off the table when Elena had called her to come save Alaric so soon after she'd failed to save her mother. The fact that she'd succeeded in saving Alaric where she'd failed to save her mother had been another blow to her armor. Even this man who now held her in his arms as she gripped his flannel, even he had forgotten to treat her softly once. He had chosen to do _this _with someone else and left her scrambling to hide the raw pieces of her heart that she'd exposed to him. The fact that he hadn't sought her out to explain or apologize afterwards, choosing instead to...what? Mourn his lost love? Contemplate the emptiness of his life after losing Anna again? Whatever the reason, the way he'd completely washed his hands of her and them had not been soft, slow, or delicate.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The emotion in his voice pulled at the emotion in her chest. He held her tight, and it was familiar, recognizable, and private. She cried against his expansive chest, and he stroke her hair and upped the ante by kissing the top of her head. Her heart started to thud when he placed a second kiss that was firm and lingering.

"It's gonna be okay."

A laugh burst out of her and then she couldn't stop laughing. She broke the hug and looked at him. His mouth pulled at the corners. "Is it?"

He inhaled deeply, and the breath he expelled fanned her wet face. "Maybe."

"I don't think so," she said sadly. "I really don't think so."

"I don't either," he said softly. The only reason he'd even arrived at the thought that things were going to be okay was because he had no more people to lose. That was not the definition of okay. That was the definition of losing. Of being beaten. Of acceptance.

"They just wanted to save her." She shrugged. Acceptance. "They made their choice." And now she doesn't know why she'd expected them to make another one. It was so easy to believe that there really was no alternative. Everyone else acted like that was the case. Elena was simply sorry. Only sorry. _"If there's anything I can do." _She'd left it up to Bonnie to think of something, anything she could do as if she'd canvased her options and found none. Just like the Salvatores. Caroline had helped her. But no one was angry. What happened to her mother was sad and unfortunate and regrettable according to Caroline and Elena, and it was necessary according to the Salvatores. But no one was _angry_. So why should she be angry? Who among them would even recognize her anger?

"They turned her."

"And they've moved on. They're going dancing tonight," she said with a wistful smile. "Tyler's back. Alaric is on his way to getting better. Stefan's regaining his humanity. And you're back safe and sound. It's time to dance," she whispered as fresh tears spilled on her cheeks. "I can't leave my house. I don't want to."

He closed the small distance she'd put between them and kissed the top of her head, and she sighed as she held his forearms. "I'm not dancing," he said against her head.

She smiled and sniffed.

"But maybe...they don't know what else to do. You can handle not dancing. I can too. Maybe they can't," he pondered. "Do you wanna dance?"

"No."

"What is she like?"

He hugged her close and she wrapped her arms around him, softening into the contact.

"I'm not sure," she said quietly. "She likes gardening. And baking." _And running_, her mind substituted, but the truth was that she now had an appreciation for her mother's ability to run. It was something she wished had been passed down to her. Her grandmother drank, her mother ran, and she...well, she stayed and fought the good fight with no outlet and thus a piece of her broke off every time. She again wondered what was at her core now. It wasn't the same thing that was there one month ago, whatever _that_ thing had been. "She was powerful. She loved her magic. And she sometimes felt bullied by it."

"That sounds like you."

She pressed her cheek further into his chest to keep from thinking about just how much she'd been bullied by magic the past two weeks. She melted when he started to massage her neck, agile fingers pressing her hair into the skin. After composing herself, she separated their chests and looked up at him, her arms still around his waist. His smile was encouraging but not overly so. It was also void of hope, something she appreciated because she didn't need the falsity. He used one thumb to wipe both of her cheeks, and she turned the moment intimate: she closed her eyes as he touched her, and when she opened them his reflected a new form of softness. Her lips parted and then she closed them, and his eyes fell to the movement. "Thanks," she said softly.

"You're welcome." He made a conscious decision to not swallow before answering, a decision that made his voice come out thick.

She held his eyes, and he didn't look away, and she wondered if he would be surprised if she kissed him. She wondered if it would be stupid to kiss him. She cut her thoughts off at the knees by planting a kiss square on his lips, and everything sped up from that point on. She stepped back from him like she was eight years old again and had just kissed Calvin something or other at recess before pushing him down on the sand. Only she wasn't going to push Jeremy; she was preparing to do her part in the mutual awkward brush-off when he stepped up to her. She didn't hesitate at the obvious cue. She pulled at his neck and they closed the distance, falling into each other. They inhaled in sync. She kissed him fast and rough, and he reciprocated, and it wasn't recognizable, and it wasn't the same familiarity, and it wasn't the privacy they'd shared many times before.

It was passionate and hungry, and she deepened the kiss, and he welcomed her into his mouth. He tasted like the avocado and tomato from the salsa, with a hint of mango. She clawed at his hair and scalp, and he grabbed at her ass and back, and unbridled want heated her center which was exactly where she wanted his hands. They kissed loud and messy, and she found something new when he grasped her tongue with his lips. She waited, curious, and he sucked her tongue, and she moaned, and he moaned, and he licked on her tongue and sucked it again. That was definitely not familiar. After wetting her lips to make sure she didn't drool and ruin the moment, she copied him, making out with his tongue and letting him know she could keep it up forever. He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her hard, and she lifted a leg and wrapped it around him. He put one hand under her uplifted thigh and one under her ass in order to support her, which brought his crotch dead in her center, and she felt his stiffening erection.

She moaned loudly when he started depositing hurried kisses along the front half of her neck. She held him close, marveling at his broad shoulders and ground her pussy against him. She heard him hitch in a breath, so she smiled proudly and did it again until she was rubbing his cock into a full erection. He cursed hotly on her neck and set to sucking the skin where her life pulsed. She worked herself into a fever pitch, thoroughly wetting her panties and hardening her clit, which brought another reason for her to keep grinding. He bit her softly and she trembled. He bit her harder, and she keened, "Yeah."

When her standing leg tired out, she returned the other to the floor. With one hand, he pressed her on his erection, and he used the other to squeeze her breasts. She lifted her other leg around his waist and they resumed dry humping.

Her clothes started to feel rough against his palms, and he thought in images. Naked. He wanted her naked. She gradually slowed her grinding until she came to a halt, and they stood off the side of her living room while he humped her rabidly, seeking out the heat of her crotch to rub his hard dick. Her mouth hung open and frozen at a half smile, her dark green eyes cloudy with need. Her panties grew sodden as she watched his dark eyes concentrate on her breasts. Taking advantage, she slipped one of her hands from around his neck, wedged it down between their bodies, and started rubbing his dick, her mouth opening wider at the feeling of it in her hand. Her move calmed his humping. He rubbed himself slowly against her palm while they breathed against each other's mouths. He ended the teasing by kissing her lips and then he started backing her up.

Bonnie looked behind her just in time to plop down on her gardening magazine. When she looked forward, he was on his knees and her lips were once again captured, and she abandoned herself to the desire he stoked.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, his voice even huskier than usual.

"Yes," she said breathily and kissed him deep.

He let the kiss play out and then eased her back to rest on the chair. He eyed her plump breasts covered by her black tank top but went for her shorts, which surprised Bonnie. Licking her lips, she followed his lead and lifted herself so he could take off first her shorts and then her underwear. Lifting her tank, he kissed her stomach, and she jumped away from his mouth, finding the gesture entirely too intimate. "Sorry," she said and shook her head, a frown appearing on her forehead as she tried to straighten herself out.

"It's okay."

"I wasn't expecting that. And I'm not sure I want you to do it again," she hurried to add when he moved to repeat it. She saw the light dim in his eyes. He apologized and looked awkward doing it, and it was her turn to let him know it was okay. She kissed him and wondered if he had changed his mind. When they stopped for a breath, they stared, each waiting on the other to either say the word 'go' or make the first move. Finally she rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. "Wow," she summarized.

"_Yeah,_" he concurred.

Without another word, she lifted her shirt above her head. She watched him straighten his spine and fasten his eyes on her bra. Encouraged, she slipped off first one strap then the other. Following a brand new idea, she puffed out her chest and slipped her hands behind her back to undo the clasp. The light returned to his eyes, and he licked his lips, and she couldn't stop her smile. She dropped the garment next to him, and she was ready when his intense gaze focused on hers. He shook his head like he wanted to say something, but he kissed her instead, with such force that he knocked her back against the chair and she laughed in his mouth while protesting in her throat. She stroke his hair while he nipped her throat and ravaged her breasts, and she created a wet spot on the white coverings of the chair. She stopped him for a second to throw the black pillow and the magazine over his head and onto the chair across.

She liked the way her breasts almost fit inside his mouth, liked the feel of his hands on her bare thigh, liked his hot and wet mouth licking her nipples incessantly, loved the rapid way his tongue flew over her nipples after he teased them into hard brown peaks. Unbeknownst to her, it was a precursor for how he would go about eating her pussy.

He framed her face with his hands, another intimate move that she was not ready for. And he repeated it and just when she was about to protest he worsened it by moving his hands down to her neck, over her breasts, along her stomach, and over her thighs. Her heart grew heavy, and that was not the emotion she wanted to feel at the moment.

"Sit back and lift your legs."

She inhaled without meaning to. He sounded like he knew exactly want he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it. Her pussy clenched, and she did as told while trying not to think about the fact that she'd procrastinated on shaving. Her trim was no longer neat and in fact it was possible to pull at her pubic hair, something she sometimes did while waiting to fall into a stressful sleep. He didn't seem to take any special notice, however.

"Higher," he instructed, and she gasped again as she readjusted herself, and he wondered if that was something she just couldn't help.

Bonnie put her hands behind her knees, the cold air in the room hitting her wet pussy. She watched him take off his flannel shirt, and she wanted to ask for a timeout so she could grope his biceps in the fitted dark grey shirt. He stroke her suspended thighs and watching him, seeing how much his face had filled out in just a couple of weeks, how much bigger he'd gotten, how his face was more set; his face was harder and more tired, and his eyes were duller despite the desire that possessed them at the moment; watching him, she could barely recognize the boy who had been eager to have a date with her, the one who had been eager to kiss her in the school hallway. There was no more eagerness, and that filled her with a crushing sadness. It worsened when he put his hand on her stomach _again_.

She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing even as she wondered if he could feel her stomach quivering.

Jeremy looked up and saw the tension on her face. She was concentrating, and he recognized it as an effort to ignore his fingers that circled on her soft stomach. Her legs were in the air and her mouth jutted out stubbornly. If he could recognize earlier that she'd been holding in her hurt, he of course could recognize now that he was making her feel something she didn't want. Yet he still caressed her stomach, turned his touch even softer in fact. She probably wanted to tell him to stop. He took advantage of the fact that she didn't, probably because she did not want to stall the moment. But he knew her silence wouldn't last. He kept a close watch on her and timed it perfectly. As soon as her frown deepened, he moved his hand south and fought his smile so she wouldn't catch that he'd figured out that him touching her there bothered her.

"Are you just gonna make me wait?" She honestly tried to keep the impatience out of her voice. She opened her eyes.

"Do you know how you look right now?" he asked, unfazed as he ran his hands up and down her thighs.

"My legs are getting tired," she sassed.

"You look hot."

"Jeremy," she said, a warning flashing in her eyes. She wasn't ready for compliments either.

"Sexy. I'm serious. And you're an athlete."

"Who hasn't run or stretched in I dunno how long," she finished with a chuckle. "I quit the cheerleading team, remember?" Was she really having a conversation with her legs up in the air and her vulva exposed to this boy's face?

"Mmm," he murmured while spreading her labia with his right index and middle fingers.

"I'm not as bendable as I used to be," she said suggestively, and he didn't disappoint in his reaction. Bedroom eyes pinned her down. "Jeremy, can you do something?"

He doubled over in laughter.

"Geez!" she complained even as she committed the hearty laugh to memory.

"No don't!" he protested when she started to put her legs down.

"Well then do somethi-"

He pinned her legs back up and took a languorous swipe at her pussy before sucking her hairy lips into his mouth.

Bonnie gasped loudly and almost pulled him off, but she beared down on her impulse and stayed put while the adrenaline of shock died in her lower stomach and was quickly replaced by the novel feeling of him sucking and licking her pussy. She wet her mouth and measured her breaths and held on tighter to her knees.

Jeremy stuck his thumb in his mouth and wet it generously before using it to rub her little clit in slow circles. He wet his left index and middle finger but then remembered to pace himself, so he inserted his middle finger into her vulva.

Bonnie tried not to tighten as his slender digit slipped along her slick entrance. Her lips parted when he started stroking. Her teeth scraped her lower lip, and she made eye contact with him. He licked his lips and she mimicked it, her movement calculated. He smiled, and she grinned, and she held her breath for more pleasure when he inserted his index finger. He ceased playing with her clit and petted her mound instead, careful not to stray near the No Go Zone that was her stomach.

The time between breaths grew shorter when he increased the pace. Her chest and stomach seemed to cave in completely when she exhaled. Her thigh muscles started to twitch. His reverence with what he was doing, the way he was immersed in fiddling her pussy, only occasionally glancing up at her, increased her desire. It became more of a chore to drag air into her lungs. Her moans became more frequent, and the urge to close her eyes became irresistible. So she did. She closed her eyes and folded her lips and turned her head from side to side as her orgasm approached. His fingers plunged in and out. His harsh breaths assaulted her ears and pushed her toward completion.

Jeremy watched how her mouth formed into a perfect circle when she moaned, watched how the circles became more frequent, watched lines form on her forehead, her eyes tighten, her nose scrunch, and her mouth crook to its favorite side, and none of this was because of a spell; it was not an attempt to remember an incantation or to push herself. She was about to become undone because of his fingers, and he pushed her to unravel, craved to see her in the throes of an orgasm and longed to see her in the aftermath of coming.

The tension experienced by her body showed all over her face. She moaned when her orgasm flooded. Her eyes popped open and she yelped through her orgasm as her legs drew closed of their own volition.

Jeremy let her trap his hand and waited for her to calm down, an amused gleam in his eyes. Once she was breathing easier, he opened her legs and used her come to lube her clit. But still he paid no attention to it, simply kept it in a constant state of moistness.

Bonnie licked her lips and wiped her face as her breath returned to normal and settled in as Jeremy stroke her thighs again, something he would always return to as she recovered from future orgasms.

The room eventually grew loud with the sounds of Jeremy's fingers bouncing up and down inside her vulva as he lay siege on her g-spot. Her come soaked the chair and it spilled down the front. Her legs were now accustomed to being suspended, though her muscles ached. It was a fair trade. Her yells filled the room, and she hoped once or twice that no one walked by the house. And whereas before she could barely support Jeremy standing close to her while her emotions were in turmoil, now she enjoyed him hanging all over her, kissing her neck, kissing her mouth and eyes and nose while he got her off. She absolutely loved when he would make out with her and then she'd have to tear her mouth away because his onslaught on her pussy was relentless and she needed her mouth free so she could scream out her next orgasm. He had moved next to the chair, standing in order to have a good enough angle to reach her spot.

Whenever he gave her a break, they didn't talk. He caressed her thigh while she stroke the back of his neck, something that never ceased to make the hairs there stand straight up.

It got to the point where she was calling him "baby." Jeremy could've sworn that all of the blood left his body when she first uttered the term of endearment. She wasn't the only one who didn't necessarily want to go back there. Granted, he was more flexible than she was, but those memories weren't something he wanted to tackle. He didn't feel like he deserved to think about what they once were. The way he'd acted didn't fit his definition of loving someone. Refusing to contemplate it further when he had Bonnie on the verge of coming, he closed the thought. But he got used to the term, and his dick started to strain insistently against his jeans.

Bonnie pulled on his neck so he would come down to make-out. He fingered her g-spot and flirted with her next orgasm. He called it forth, then pulled back and let it abate, called it again, and then paused his fingers and used his thumb to rub her wet and horribly neglected clit. Her wanton sounds disappeared down his throat while she captured his breaths. His hand and wrist shined with her come. She stretched her tongue to chase his, and they mingled, and everything suspended.

"Mmmm," she moaned when he broke the kiss, totally unsuspecting.

He stuck four fingers in his mouth, wetting them generously, and rubbed her aching and lubed nub fast and furious. She immediately coiled as the most powerful orgasm rushed and tackled her. Her hands clamped down on the arms of the chair while he used his free hand to hold her legs up. "Ah! Ah! Ah! Shiiiitttt!" Helpless to slow her orgasm, she blindly used both hands to grip the arm working on her clit, half pushing and half pulling. She arched severely. "Fuuuck!" She yelled as she ejaculated like she hadn't come at all in the forty-five minutes since he'd taken off her underwear, short bursts of surprised sounds. She wet her stomach and thighs. "Jeremy!" Her voice broke on the last syllable, and it came out as a desperate and defeated sob.

"Ah _fuck_," Jeremy groaned. His eyes ping-ponged between her pussy and her taunt face. Her eyes were shut tight, and her neck muscles stood out. All of this coupled with the unique symmetry of her face created a picture of unreserved lewdness that had his cock crying pre-come. He continued to quickly rub her clit from side to side while pressing down on it, and then he slowed down. He inserted his middle and ring fingers inside and lubed her clit again, and she flinched. He then sucked his fingers clean two at a time and moaned at her taste.

Bonnie didn't see this; she couldn't focus on him. Her thighs shook and her calves threatened to tighten up. She turned away from him and slumped in the fetal position, a big smile on her face as she bit her bottom lip. "Oh my God, oh my God. Ah," she repeated breathlessly. She trembled when he started stroking her thigh. She hoped none of that was pee. Her vulva felt like it was positively _breathing_, and it felt amazing. If she could figure out what was currently at her core through _this_ method, then she'd be all for the journey.

She laughed, and it was high pitched and genuine, and Jeremy marveled at it. The curve of her ass called out to him, and he walked uncomfortably to the front of the chair and kneeled. He kissed her upper thigh, kissed the fleshy part of her ass, and she shifted, clumsily putting her legs up on the arm of the chair, and he gained greater access, and he wondered if she'd ever played with her asshole. The idea came to him as he played with her ass cheek, rubbing and jiggling it, and he wanted to follow up on it, hoped he would be able to. It was something he used to think about back when they were together, when he would masturbate to the different ways they could be intimate.

He cursed under his breath when his dick throbbed anew at the thought.

The obscenity captured Bonnie's attention. She'd thought about his state twice while the minutes had ticked by, and she'd asked him if he was okay, and he'd reassured her he was. Looking at him now, she was positive he'd reached the end of his rope. She smiled and slowly sat up. She felt like she'd been put through the ringer. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," he answered, voice raspy.

"Mmm." She kissed him, unhurried and chaste. Slipping her hand between them, she fondled his erection, and the seat cushions shifted under her when he held on to them. She groped him more firmly.

"Think you can come again?" He asked lazily.

She laughed. "I don't think so." He stood, and her hand immediately latched on to his belt, stopping any movement he might've thought to make. She looked up, and he was watching her, his mouth hanging open and hips unconsciously thrusted toward her. A grin spread slowly on her face. She cupped him, and he moved into her hands, and she steadied her grip. Using both hands, she felt him along the dark wash jeans, squeezing in order to get the impression of his thickness. He let out strong breath, and she looked up.

"That feels really good."

"Oh yeah?" She undid his belt while he took off his shirt. She unbuttoned his pants and then ran her hands up his chest. Remembering her earlier desire, she stood and proceeded to paw his biceps. He was definitely bigger. "Did you work out in Denver?" She wasn't embarrassed to ask, and her voice came out thick as honey. Her hands migrated to his pecs, and she squeezed, committing the hard plains to memory.

"A little. Played some bad baseball." "The gym didn't help though," he said after a few seconds. "The emptiness. Nothing helped."

His voice, a softer register than usual, wrapped around Bonnie, and she looked up.

"I saw you, you know. At the beginning. Online." He saw the protection fall over her face, and he remembered to keep those particular feelings out of his voice, out of his eyes, and out of his face. "You could've talked to me. You knew I couldn't reach out to you, not with-"

"I know. I just..." She chuckled self-deprecatingly. "...forgot how to reach out to you, I guess." She'd turned her status invisible because she hated having to wonder what he was up to and what he was thinking. There was never a good time to write him. There were times when she'd wanted to be selfish and start up a conversation, make him her getaway again. But she wouldn't have been able to tell him everything, not with his compulsion in place, and that, more than any other reason, had made her hesitate. So she'd switched her status to invisible. She never imagined that he noticed.

He wanted to ask her if she remembered how to talk to him and how to open up to him now, but he chose not to. Soft hands snaked up his neck, and his mind emptied when she connected her lips to his.

"Bonnie," he strained. Her hands were inside his pants, rubbing his wet boxer briefs against his cock, and he needed to come.

"I know."

He held his breath when she dropped to her knees in a fluid motion. She unzipped his pants carefully and then snatched them down.

And things sped up again.

His cock sprung up as soon as his underwear cleared the way, and Bonnie forgot all about self-awareness and shame. Her eyes shined with a predatory glint. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly let it pop out. His cock twitched, and she was unaware that it was a response to her face. She watched it slowly rise, and her mouth opened further. When it bounced, she wrapped her hand around the base and looked up at its owner. Her heart skipped when she found him looking at her. His ravenous grin matched hers. Tightening her grip, she dragged her tongue the length of him and paid mind to the ridges and veins that communicated the extent of his lust. She swallowed and tasted his salty ejaculate and decided it was something she could get used to. When she licked her way back to the head, she swallowed him in her mouth.

Jeremy watched avidly. Her hands stayed around his shaft in a vice-like grip which only brought him closer to nirvana. In contrast, her mouth wrapped soft and hot around his dick. He stayed still as she experimented and worked out how she wanted to do things, even though his hands flexed with the desire to hold her head in place.

He was bigger than he felt through his clothes, but Bonnie found he could fit in her mouth just fine. She loosened her lips when she sucked in as much of him as she could, and she folded her lips when she sucked more toward the tip of his cock. She ran into a problem when it came to using her tongue, however. She wanted to use it, wanted to taste as much of him as possible, to give him as much as possible, but things became noisy when she used her tongue. Noisy and wet because the more of him she took the wider her mouth opened and she'd start to drool. She tried repeatedly and always stopped when she felt her saliva about to overflow.

The inconsistency was apparent to Jeremy, and the experience became harder to enjoy. He briefly watched her struggle, watched every time she stopped to collect herself, and it started to wear his erection down. "Hey," he said, grabbing his dick from her hand and pulling out of her mouth. "Come here."

He led her to the chair facing the one she'd been writhing on a couple of minutes ago. He dropped the pillows and magazine on the floor. Framing her face, he said, "Don't worry about it, okay?" He didn't hide his amusement.

Bonnie huffed in a breath, puffing out her chest and jutting out a stubborn chin. "It's just...a little big, is all. I know what I'm doing. It's just..." She rolled her eyes, the self-awareness now back in full force. "Sometimes I feel like I'm gonna drool," she blurted out with attitude, cocking a stand as if she expected him to say something her ego wasn't in the mood for.

Her defensiveness widened his smile. "Don' about it. Do what you have to."

She wondered how he could sound so seductive speaking five simple words. "Drool?" she questioned doubtfully.

"Yeah."

His mouth pulled at the corners as his eyes danced with words unspoken. Curious about what he wasn't saying, she slanted her head and raised an arched brow.

"If you take it as deep as you can, you're gonna be drooling anyways...I like it deep," he confessed.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling. Shifting her weight to her left side, she ventured, "You mean..."

"Deepthroating."

She smiled wide, and both looked utterly lecherous.

"I'm not saying you have to do that-"

"Oh come on, don't back down now," she teased.

"I'm not backing down; I'm just saying." His voice softened when he said, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But I am...starting to die, so...I need you to get comfortable." His face and neck grew hot. There was no other way to say it as far as he knew but at the same time he didn't want her to feel put out.

She laughed and shook her head.

"And it might be easier if I'm sitting."

It was. She had better control, better grip, and she was more comfortable. In short time, she shrugged off her self-awareness again, and the room filled with slurping sounds as she bobbed up and down. She accustomed her jaw to his width as she took more and focused on putting enough pressure with her lips to get him off. She stopped once to make sure he was enjoying himself and found his eyes were glazed. He slouched further in the chair which pushed his cock toward her. He touched her shoulder, and told her it was good. Satisfied, she took him in her mouth with vigor.

Jeremy felt his balls swell, and he tightened his hold on her shoulder. From there, his hand traveled to her neck and fondled it, then he threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape and brought it up to her crown. He stilled his hand but kept it soft enough so that he didn't get in her way as she jounced up and down. The sight of her sucking his cock, the feel of her lithe tongue and her saliva coating his length, the sound of it as she she swilled her slaver mixed with his semen...it was beyond his imagination and had certainly been the furthest thing from his mind for a long time. Not even when she'd kissed him, not even when he'd asked her if she was sure, had he thought he'd end up in the heat of her mouth.

He knew he wasn't going to last long. He widened his legs and massaged her crown and, wetting his lips, closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair. In the darkness, his problems tried to barge back in, but he slightly increased the pressure on Bonnie's crown in order to remind him of where he was, who he was with, and what was happening, and the problems disappeared again.

Bonnie's jaw started to cramp. She tried to push through, but it only got worse. She slurped her way up his cock and tightened her lips around his head and swallowed his pre-come, and she immediately started moving the hand that was resting at his shaft. She pumped his cock, twisting her hand every time she got close to the top.

"Yeah," he murmured.

With her other hand, she trailed a path up his stomach to his chest.

"Tighter," he told her, and she increased the pressure with which she held him, squeezing his cock as she twisted her hand around it and used his semen to keep him lubed.

"Put your hand on my head again." As long as they were giving orders...

Grinning, Jeremy did as he was told although he was forced to sit a little straighter since she was no longer bent over him. He wanted to hold her hand to his chest, had the most urgent desire to hold it to his heart in fact, but the notion unsettled him. It was too familiar and though a part of him still pushed to do it regardless, he knew now was not the time. She definitely wasn't in the mindset to deal with that, if her reaction to him touching her stomach earlier was any indication, and when she laid her hand in a most definitive, what he thought to be a most possessive, way, as if staying him where he was, as if telling him to pay attention; when the palm of her hand pressed into his chest and burned through it straight to his heart, he knew wasn't ready either. Now was the prime time to look away, to let go of sight and close his eyes again, but she was looking at him, into his eyes. She'd commandeered his attention, and he couldn't deny her this, wasn't going to close his eyes and force her to find another source of pleasure, another thing to add to her experience. She'd decided looking into his eyes at this very moment was it, and he could only hope they didn't betray him.

The sounds coming out of him were more and more frayed and broken as he watched her hand go up and down his slick cock. His balls tightened and with a twitch of his cock he started coming. He pressed on her crown, and the worst thing happened. Her palm flexed against his chest, and suddenly he felt something move swiftly up and down his spine with a disarming potency. "Oh my-! Oh my-!" That heavenly something stole his voice as it simultaneously spread on his chest and balled in the centers of his feet. The sensation was like the sweetest electricity on his spine and the thickest waves on his chest, and his feet threatened to slacken with the energy taking space there. She was channeling him, and his cock hardened painfully at the realization, and his arousal increased. "Shit! Shi-Bon-."

His breath came out in quick shallow huffs. His come had halted when she'd started channeling him, a reflex so that his brain could figure out what was happening, and now he felt like he was going to come harder than before. His abdomen started shaking. He looked at her: the thirst on her face as she held him in her gaze, the hard lust in her eyes, the way she radiated dominion; the feeling of her power settling in his body and concurrently taking from it. Tattered sounds escaped with every breath. His thighs started shaking, and the damn broke, and he resumed coming, and this time it was voluminous. "Shit!" he shouted as his body started convulsing and her hand on his dick siphoned all he had.

He watched his come spring out, thick and heavy, and it was too much. His toes curled and the energy dwelling in his feet broke and reformed in response, and his balls tightened at the feeling. He choked on her name and threw his head on the back of the chair, a dopey smile on his face as he came harder than he could remember coming in a very long time.

Bonnie fixed her hand to make sure she was still firmly touching his chest. Part of her wanted to let go and use both hands to jack him off, maybe channel him directly from his dick, but she didn't want to break the connection, and a bigger part of her wanted to take more, to give more. His sixth spurt landed on her neck, the seventh missed her face when she quickly turned and landed on her cheek. She flinched and grinned, and increased the intensity with which she tapped into his body. His arms, having long left her head, tightened their grip on the back of the chair.

Jeremy felt like he was being dismantled through his spine, felt like he was coming apart, like every defense he had was washing away. And he tried to salvage all of it; in the span of seconds, he instinctually tried to hold on to all of his defenses and rapidly found that trying to resist made it even better when she effortlessly tugged it from his weak grasp. He grunted and choked out a strong curse, an obscenity said by a man who knew he was at mercy and who knew he wanted no mercy. Because in this space, finally there existed a space, having no control and being controlled, being acted on, felt like heaven, felt like the sweetest gift. His legs shook uncontrollably, and he imagined that there was no end. His face was taunt, and he jerked his back against the chair for lack of anything else to do. He looked down at the steady hold she had on his cock, his cock that felt intangible and supremely tactile at once. Nothing felt more palpable than the heat of her palm against his messy dick, however. Her face clearly said she wasn't ready to end it, and a large part of him wanted her to give all she had, but then the lights started flickering madly and he heard several doors open and slam shut upstairs as her power found another way to convert the energy she was pilfering from his body, and his cock twitched in her fist, and his spine felt like it was going to rip the last shred of his bravado away. He wanted it but he couldn't afford it, and with an achingly helpless curse he grabbed her wrist and pried her hand from his cock. He immediately missed it, all of it. His body felt strange, his mind felt like it was still occupying another place. He shot blindly out of the chair and moved around her on uneasy feet. He slipped and almost fell, and that's when he realized there was condensation on the tile floor. He didn't stop until he made it to the safety, and dryness, of the kitchen, breathing hard the whole way.

Bonnie felt like she was coming out of a trance as she stood. She stretched the hand that had been jacking him off. It was covered with ejaculate, as far up as the crook of her elbow. She rotated her wrist to get the blood flowing and watched come slip from her hand onto the floor. She dragged her right foot and disturbed the water that had formed on the tile. With her left arm, she wiped the come that had landed on her cheek.

It was the first time she'd used her power since that horrible day spent in Klaus' mansion. She tried to figure out how she felt in the wake of channeling Jeremy. It had been a spontaneous act. She'd watched him on the verge of coming and remembered that night almost eight months ago when he'd wanted her to channel him. Once she'd started, his reaction had driven her to keep going. She'd taken pleasure in how much she'd affected him, and she'd wanted more of it, had wanted to see how far she could drive him. And now she wanted to know exactly what he'd been feeling in those too brief seconds. Her curiosity about Jeremy's inner workings brought her back to her own hang-ups. She'd used her powers on him, but it still wasn't...like before. She would channel him again in a heartbeat, but there was a...a sense of control that used to be there whenever she used her powers...a strong sense of pride...an escape...safety, comfort, the knowledge that she definitely had a handle on this particular thing. _This_, _her_ powers, _her_ magic would never...hurt her. It would never be used to hurt her, because she was the only one who had clout over it. People could use her love for them to hurt her, to leave her like her mother and Jeremy and to ignore her like her father, with the full knowledge that she would still be there. But they couldn't use her magic. Her magic had been her solace many times, the first time being the weeks and months following her grandmother's death. But in the last three weeks since her mother's death...

She was thankful when Jeremy reappeared. She'd avoided thinking about this for the last three days, the last three weeks even, but she was starting to crack. And if she cracked, if she let it all out, what would she be left with?

"Hi," she greeted him with a furtive smile. She took stock of his sculpted body now that he was standing at a distance. His face, neck, and chest were tinted a very pale pink.

"Hey."

Though he smiled in return, and it was a secret smile that said they'd done something nasty together, she saw how he averted his gaze, saw how he wasn't coming any closer. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just...I needed a moment."

Her heart stilled at a new thought. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he rushed to reassure her, and he stepped closer. Brushing his mouth, he said, "I was just feeling a little weird."

"I shouldn't have done it. Or I should've asked first." She chuckled nervously as the thought that she'd overstepped her boundaries, done something he in fact didn't want, ate at her.

"No, Bonnie," he said quickly in an attempt to block the direction her thoughts were going. He further lessened the gap between them. "You didn't need to ask," he said softly. "I swear," he emphasized laughingly when naked doubt appeared on her face. If she had asked, he would've been more guarded during the experience. That's if he didn't outright decline. He would've missed out.

"You left," she said simply.

"I needed to...regroup. It felt amazing. I've never felt anything like it. But...it's hard to explain. I started feeling exposed; like...you were creeping into places I don't...want. Like you were pulling apart my feelings. I guess," he explained, feeling awkward.

His eyes pinned her down, and Bonnie wondered when he closed the space between them. He looked at her like he was wondering how she had the power to do such a thing; he looked at her like he was seconds away from kissing her for being able to do it.

"I probably shouldn't have channeled you when you're dealing with being compelled," she said, sounding dazed.

"I told you it's fine," he said. He tucked the hair on the left side of her face behind her ear. He stroke the skin hanging from said ear, dragged his thumb diagonally on her cheek, and finally tilted her chin up with his index finger and kissed her long and slow.

This kiss, unlike the one that led them here, was laid back. Jeremy licked her bottom lip and she licked his, but Bonnie never let the kiss go deeper than that. Instead, she enjoyed the mellow way his arms wrapped around her, registered how her breasts were squished against his chest. He sucked on her lip and she smiled, which made it slip out but he quickly caught it between his teeth, and she thought it was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her. She moaned, and he freed her lip. "I should probably go wash my hand." She had to repeat the first two words because her voice was gone for a second.

"Yeah. I should probably clean up too." The come on his abdomen and thighs were drying. He glanced at the bit that had landed on her neck. "What happened to the floor?" he asked, registering that his feet were wet.

"Magic," she said cheekily.

He smiled and shook his head at the obvious joke as she grinned and walked past him.

"Hey...you did enjoy that, right?"

He turned and stared at her, openly dumbfounded that she would ask, but when she chuckled and took the stairs two at a time, he realized that she was stroking her own ego, and he watched her ass as she went.

He cleaned up in the half-bath downstairs while she fixed herself in her bathroom upstairs. After he dressed, he went outside to stuff his ruined boxer-briefs under the passenger seat of his car. He took a moment to think about what had just happened, how his day had strayed from the expected, and when he turned to walk back into the house, the state of all of the windows made him chortle. "Wow," he said under his breath.

Hands on her hips and lips folded, Bonnie was contemplating the mess they'd made when he walked back in. She needed a shower, but she'd cleaned what was important. She had also washed and moisturized her face, and she'd thrown on a yellow tank and turquoise shorts. "We need to clean this up. Somehow," she said, looking at the wet chair she'd occupied.

"Yeah, we probably should've put down towels."

She loved that they had been too hurried to think of that.

"Hey, uh, your windows are fogged up."

"What?" She hurried to the window next to the chair when he pointed, pulled the blinds, and saw condensation slowly rolling down the glass. "Oh." She laughed.

"All of them are like that."

She turned with an amazed smile. She'd felt something happening to the air around the house when she'd started channeling him, but she hadn't been focused on it.

"Is there some kind of magical cleaning solvent you can use?"

"Mmm, maybe," she said, seriously thinking about it. "There might be something in my mom's grimoire. She left it to me," she added quietly, when he looked from the chairs to her. "There's a couple of stuff in there about herbs and mixtures..."

"Do you need any help?"

Smiling, she shook her head. "I can do it later."

"Your dad-"

"Isn't here. Won't be until Wednesday."

Giving him her back, she faced the work ahead of her. Of course she could just clean it manually, but the seat cushions were white. She heard him move off, and when she looked, he'd taken a seat on one end of the couch. His head was thrown back, and his eyes were closed. Leaving the chairs, she walked to him. He opened his eyes and looked at her when she was near. The dark orbs reflected the softness and quiet want in her green ones. She took it as openness, for whatever she wanted to do, so she climbed on his lap and sat, her back resting on the arm of the couch.

Jeremy draped one arm over her bent legs and when Bonnie laid her head on his chest and rested her hand on his arm, he wrapped the other one around her back. They stayed in that position for minutes, both staring at something that couldn't be seen by the other. Neither knew when Bonnie started tracing his arm.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Jeremy lifted the hand on her thigh to look at his watch. "Uh, seven-o-eight."

"The dance has started," she said absently.

"I decorated it."

"What?" A small smile split her face.

"I decorated the dance."

She straightened and gaped at him. "Since when?"

"Since Elena's trying to make amends. Matt asked me if I wanted to help, and I knew he was doing it for Elena. I only went because I had nothing else to do, and I really didn't want to think. But then I had enough so I left. And ended up here."

"How did you do?" The thought of him being part of a decorating committee amused her more than it should.

"With a lot of push from Caroline? I'm sure I was subpar."

She laughed at his droll tone. "She can be a little...zealous."

"It was too much excitement."

"Hmm." She bit the inner corner of her lip. The amusement drained from her face as she became serious about the thought that just struck her. "Maybe I should go see the result. Right?" she asked, lifting her shoulders when he did nothing but look at her.

"It's really not that impressive. We can stay in if you want to."

She wanted to take him up on the offer but was suddenly gripped by mild anxiety at the thought of him leaving at the end of the night, in a couple of hours, in an hour, or in whatever time social norms and etiquette would dictate that he's been at her place for longer than required. She wasn't anxious at the prospect of being without his company; she just was not ready to go back to being alone. Night was coming, and it was her favorite time, but she wanted to prolong their time together.

"I wanna go," she decided.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," she said, taking a long breath and nodding her head. "Let's go," she declared, shaking him when he turned his head to the left in doubt. She vacated his lap and stood.

"You have a costume?" he asked, standing.

"I can find one," she said, thinking fast. "Do you?"

"Uh yeah. Elena gave Matt one for me. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah," she said, infusing excitement into her voice. "I've been stuck in my house for like three days," she explained, grabbing on to his forearms. "I wanna see outside."

"Okay," he said, still sounding reluctant.

"Unless you don't wanna go."

"Nah, I'm up for whatever."

"Great." She was genuinely getting excited.

There was a moment of hesitation when it came time to part, but they solved it at the same time when both leaned and crashed their mouths together. They chuckled at the awkward kiss, gave each other a better one, and Bonnie closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N 1: Anon: Jeremy really is the hottest guy on the show! Tyler is second, and I actually wish they'd let him be more of a douche. I feel like they try to pass him off as Mr. Nice and it feels ooc, like it happened too soon.**

**Bottomless**

An hour and twenty minutes later, Bonnie locked her car doors and walked the school parking lot to where Jeremy was waiting for her. She patted her hair softly with one gloved hand to make sure every strand was in place. She ran a hand over her feather boa, loving how thick it was. Her other hand ran down her pearl necklace. The frills on the hemline of the dress shimmied on her thighs with every step, reminding her of the secret under her dress and keeping her excited. She'd eschewed wearing underwear, just because. Well...she had no plans about the end of the night, that was for sure, but while alone she'd of course thought about Jeremy's visit and how it had turned out. That may or may not have influenced her to end her procrastination on shaving. It had definitely influenced her to go commando. She just didn't plan on her lack of underwear leading anywhere.

He came into her line of sight. He saw her immediately, and she decided she wouldn't be opposed to her lack of underwear leading her where she had been this afternoon.

He stepped away from his car and faced her, his arms hanging at his sides. She took the opportunity to peruse his attire. It wasn't anything special, but she thought he looked good regardless. When her eyes traveled back up, she found he had pinned her down. The warmth and openness was back. She could tell by the small smile on his lips and the tilt of his head. He was presently checking her out, and she let him know that she knew: she slowed her steps, made sure to put one foot in front of the other as she walked, made sure to put her right foot fully on the ground so that her right hip would cock up, then the left for the same effect, then the right again. After a quick glance at the ground to make sure she wasn't going to step in or on anything, she realized she could play with her eyes. So she blinked slowly, looked away, smiled, fanned her neck, played with her pearls, and by the time she reached him, his small smile had widened into a toothy grin. She laughed when she stopped in front of him.

"Wow."

She cocked her head again, completely coquettish.

"You look amazing."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"M'lady."

"I don't think they said M'lady in the 20s," she said with a laugh.

"Well M'lady is all I know," he countered, then added, "M'am. Miss!"

"That's better," she said smoothly. "You look...dashing."

He immediately became bashful. "Um. Well Matt laid it out. The collar's kind of annoying," he complained, pulling at the offending piece. He stopped fidgeting when she smoothed down his tie, and he stood still while she fixed the collar he'd messed up. That brought her closer to him, and he breathed in her scent. It was light, flowery, and memorable. He wanted a closer whiff. She looked up at him, and he wasn't sure her eyes had ever looked so big or so alluring. He wanted to faintly trace her red lips with his thumb and lightly pull her full bottom lip down so that he could watch it snap back into place. He'd been nursing an erection since he got in the shower an hour ago, so he'd touched himself under the water. He'd only meant to stroke his cock. He hadn't wanted to jack off, because he'd been hoping his dick would soften by the time he met up with Bonnie. But he was still hard when he finished showering, and his memory of her power on his body had been so vivid that he would've sworn he could feel her magic sizzling up and down his spine. His feet had suddenly felt sensitive on the floor, and he'd imagined his cock in her hands again. So he'd hopped back in the shower and brought himself off.

"Your hair looks nice," she said, reaching up to brush her fingers along the tips.

"Thanks." He took care of his appearance on the whole, but his hair was the only thing that could get him to look in the mirror a second and even a third time.

Bonnie rested her hands on his chest, and he brought his hands to her hips. She touched his lip when he smiled, tapping it with her index finger. She was ready when he put a little space between them so he could lean down and kiss her.

His hand found its place at the small of her back when they started making their way to the entrance. That, coupled with the frills rubbing her legs, reminded Bonnie of her secret, and she decided she would definitely share it with him if the opportunity presented itself.

"You put this together in an hour and twenty minutes?" he asked as they walked. She and Elena always took forever to get ready, and as far as he knew, she hadn't planned on going to the dance. Did she really have a feather boa just hanging in her closet? The possibility made him very curious.

"Yeah," she answered with pride. "With a big help from Tikki. The wig is hers. And so is the boa. I swear I _felt _her rolling her eyes when I called saying it was an emergency. I was lucky she answered her phone. She was already at the dance. Her mom let me in. I wanted to paint my nails, but there was no time."

They walked the empty halls sparsely covered with themed decorations. It gave her the feeling that the big surprise, the more hardcore stuff, was on the other side of the double doors that they were fast approaching just around the corner, too fast for her stomach to handle. She could hear the speedy music, the chatter, the _people_. They passed a group of boys roughhousing their way in the opposite direction of the hallway. Her stomach churned, and she wished Jeremy had offered her his arm. She desperately wanted to grab hold of _something_. Instead, she balled one hand into a fist on her chest and tightened her hold on her clutch with the other.

They came upon a chaperone by the doors, Bonnie's math professor from the last school year. Bonnie offered her a tight smile. She felt like she was about to be bombarded with a lot of energy that she did not want.

"Hey!" she said quickly to Jeremy, "Um. Can we not run into anyone we know?"

"No problem. Hey, if you've changed your mind..."

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Just...I'm fine."

"I'm only here because of you," he assured her.

She smiled. "I'll let you know when I wanna leave."

"All right. Ready?"

After taking a deep breath, she nodded once.

Her mood changed when she stepped over the proverbial threshold. The energy was fresh and the air conditioner blew in her face for a bit before all of the bodies overpowered it. She was pulled in by the costumes, the dresses, the feathers, the shoes, the gloves, the garters, the headbands, and the hats. She loved it all. She smiled at the sight of the girls who nailed it with their make-up, at those who failed, and at those who wore no make-up at all. She spied Tikki and her green and black sequin flapper dress and cloche hat, posing for pictures.

Jeremy's hand on her back turned insistent as he pulled her to the side and she looked away from the dancing and gave him her attention.

"If we're avoiding everyone, then we should walk on the edge."

"Right," she answered, realizing she'd been about to walk through the middle of the crowd.

"You like the stars?" he asked, close to her ear as they made their way to the back of the gym.

"Was that your job?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah. You see how they trickle? Not hang. Trickle."

She laughed, recognizing Caroline's input.

"Don't mock, that takes skill."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"It took two people."

"Who helped you?"

"Not help. It was a joint effort."

"Oh right."

"Matt played a part."

Her laughter made her take several steps ahead, a mockery of a run.

Once they were opposite of the double doors through which they'd entered, Jeremy leaned against the wall while Bonnie stood a ways from him and observed the dance. He decided that coming to the dance wasn't such a bad idea after all. He was happy to see how the decorations turned out, even if he and Bonnie only stayed for a little while. The jubilant people and the music was a nice change from what was going on inside his head and in his life.

Bonnie let the music wash over her. It started with her shoulders, which she bounced in tandem with the music. Then her arms came into play, moving in tempo with her bouncing shoulders. The trumpets tempted her hips to get in on the action. She moved, shuffling her feet and turning in circles, keeping her head near her left shoulder and angled down, because she felt that's how people sometimes held their heads in the 20s while they danced.

Jeremy put his hands in his pockets and watched her carve out her space on the dance floor. He smiled when she looked over her shoulder and made eye contact with him and proceeded to exaggerate her hip movements.

Holding his attention, Bonnie let him know that she did not want him looking anywhere else. When she was sure he got the message, she turned in a circle, shuffling her feet and swinging her hips, and once she gave him her back again, she shimmied her ass in a way she was positive clashed with the 1920s era. She didn't care because when she looked over her shoulder again, she had his attention right where she wanted it.

A couple of minutes later, the speakers shrilled and interrupted Bonnie's good time. She and Jeremy looked to the stage on the left to find one of the chemistry teachers preparing to speak.

"Good evening, everyone!"

Loud cheers rang out, and Bonnie looked around timidly.

"I hope y'all are having a good time, but I also hope y'all didn't think this night would end without us dancing some classic 20s dances!"

Somewhere on the dance floor, Tyler Lockwood wondered if the woman had ever spoken into a microphone before. She was practically yelling into it.

"Alrighty. We have a treat courtesy of Rebekah Mikaelson and the planning committee! We're going to do about three dances that were very popular during the 1920s. The first one is very easy. As a matter of fact, you can say it's a piece of cake! It's called the Cakewalk!"

Matt ducked his head, smiling and cringing at the bad pun.

"Okay um. The Cakewalk originates from the Black slaves on the Southern plantations," she read from her notecard. "Let's see, the steps were done at parties that would sometimes be attended to by the slave owners. Unbeknownst to them, however, the dance was done to satirize the way White Europeans danced. So let's do the Cakewalk!" As soon as she was done speaking, four African American dancers, two women and two men, walked onto the stage.

Bonnie turned to Jeremy, her chest puffed out excitedly.

"Uh, no."

"Yes!"

"No way."

"Oh come on. You can dance; I know you can dance," she argued, thinking back to when he asked her to dance at the masquerade ball many months ago.

"Yeah regular dancing, and I'm not exactly the best at _that_. Now I'm supposed to move like you were moving?" he protested as they were told to partner up (or not, if they so chose), and Bonnie grabbed his hand and pulled, walking backwards as she spoke.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure my great-grandparents are rolling in their graves at what I was just doing."

Jeremy laughed. "They're gonna haunt us tonight and strangle us in our sleep for butchering this."

Bonnie laughed and faced the exit with Jeremy like they were instructed. The music picked up and grew louder, and a gymnasium full of image-conscious teenagers attempted the Cakewalk. Bonnie and Jeremy watched how the people on stage were doing it, and then, standing side by side, he grabbed her hand and stretched it out in front of them, and they started walking to the tinkering of the piano. Tyler sat that particular dance out, so Caroline lunged for Matt and dragged him to the dance floor. Elena talked Stefan into teaching her. And of course there was a group of students, boys and girls, who not only considered themselves too cool for the dance but refused to sit it out, so they made their own version, wilding out and making faces. Caroline rolled her eyes in disgust.

The student body circled the gym, cakewalking all the way until Bonnie and Jeremy found themselves part of the first line as they faced the wall Jeremy was previously leaning against.

"Give yourselves a round of applause!" the brunette woman encouraged when she got back on the mic.

As the students clapped, Stefan remarked to Elena how happy Bonnie looked and made ado about meaning to apologize to her.

Meanwhile, Bonnie felt her good cheer sapping as she clapped. The Cakewalk had required fast-stepping and high energy. Towards the end, her smile had frozen on her face. She was relieved to dance the Baltimore next. It not only allowed her to get closer to Jeremy, but he led, so all she had to do was follow. The dance still required a lot of footwork, which clashed with her growing level of discomfort. Her stomach churned, and her chest constricted mildly. Some hooting and hollering sounded out as the pace of the music increased, and her skin crawled.

"Hey. Bonnie," Jeremy said, shaking her lightly. "Are you okay?" She said yes, but her eyes looked distant. "You wanna leave?" Her negative answer was one of clear stubbornness. If nothing else, the way her hand tightened on his bicep told him so. He backed her away from the crowd until her back touched the wall. Instead of letting go, she put her hands around his neck, so he stopped closer to her and braced his hands on the wall.

"I'm not wearing any underwear," she told him too brightly over the music. It was a desperate attempt to get back the good energy that had propelled her to dance by herself half an hour before. She smiled, but there was tension at the corners of her mouth.

"You're not wearing any underwear?" Jeremy asked, amused. He knew she wasn't going to last, but he saw the desperate hope. Her eyes were big now, but for an entirely different reason than before. He kissed her.

As they kissed, Bonnie felt a cold chill sweep over her body. She put her hands on his elbows and pushed him back. Her eyes pricked with the threat of tears. "I can't...I need..."

"Come on." He grabbed her hand and led her out of the gym.

Bonnie slipped her hand out of his when they made it to a deserted hallway. His nearness was starting to overwhelm her. She'd almost made a run for it when, on their way out, the Charleston had been announced as the third dance. The chill remained, and her heart rate increased.

"We should go," Jeremy said, lightly touching her elbow.

"No," Bonnie said, stepping away from his hand.

"Bonnie."

"I just...I need you to back up...please." Not waiting, she continued walking, her steps slightly unstable as a headache threatened to assault her.

Jeremy stayed behind and leaned against some lockers and watched her until she stopped by a classroom and leaned against the door.

The feather boa around her neck was constricting, so Bonnie took it off. She closed her eyes and attempted to wrestle herself under control. She needed to feel cooler. How could she be so hot in an empty hallway with the air conditioner on?

She didn't fight the memories when they came. She didn't block out the image of Stefan using his power to block her path, didn't deny the vivid experience that no one saw, that no one knew, that she would probably never be able to put into words: the moment when, after Esther's scream and the voices of the Originals had faded away, she had been alone with her mother's body. The moment when she'd had to tell herself, explain to herself because she was the only one who could explain it, she's been the only one explaining everything to herself for so long; she had to tell herself to accept what happened, that it really did happen, that in the blink of an eye her life had been threatened and her mother had lost hers. In that moment, she hadn't thought of the reason. She knew the reason for Stefan had said it, but all she'd thought about was the fact that her mother had just been killed while she'd been blocked in the basement. She hadn't done anything to fight for her and her mother's lives, but in that moment she hadn't been bothered by that fact. Even now, it didn't bother her. She didn't think that she could've prevented her mother's death. She only thought about the fact that it happened.

And no one was angry. Not even she'd been angry at first. She'd been incredibly hurt. As she'd crouched next to her mother's body, she'd felt a devastating hurt unlike any she'd ever experienced. Surely this was it. Surely this was the end. Surely she should stay where she was, in the common room of the witches' house, forever. How could she go on after this? How could she step outside? How could things be the same, how could everyone be the same?

She couldn't tell if she was angry now. She just wanted to avoid everyone. And for the first time she acknowledged that, even though she felt betrayed, she hadn't been surprised when she'd realized Stefan's intention. Even though she'd had to talk herself into accepting the reality that her mother lay lifeless on a dusty floor, she'd been calm while talking to Stefan, almost as if the dominant part of her had accepted that this situation was indeed possible.

And she abhorred that fact. Because one thing she realized now as the cool door finally broke through the heat of her back, was that acceptance bred compliance. It had so far for her. She'd accepted what had happened, but that had only led to her doing without feeling. She saved Alaric, watched over her mother, made up with Elena, responded to Klaus' threat and unbound him and his siblings, and through it all she'd accepted with only a low boiling anger and the distinct feeling that she did not like how she felt. Acceptance had made her compliant and because of that she'd become a hermit and was now panicking in a sparsely populated hallway. She hated it. What was worse was that she didn't know what to do about it. Her thoughts and memories only tortured and kept her at rock bottom.

She grew calmer and, finally, her body temperature felt normal again.

When she opened her eyes, she found that Jeremy was immersed in his own rumination. His long lashes swept his cheeks when he blinked. She knew it was futile to wish Elena hadn't betrayed him a second time, but she did it anyway. She didn't know whether he sensed her looking at him or if he'd been sporadically checking on her and she'd just been unaware, but he lifted his head and turned his neck to look at her, and she was struck by just how cute he was. When they were still together, she'd thought more than once that his looks were unfair. He was hot, but he could also be cute. She blamed his eyes. They could emit such softness and when they did it made him look younger, more innocent, devastatingly so. But then he would look at her a certain way. His eyes would remain soft, but there would be mischief there too. And today she'd experienced the moves behind the looks, and she had nothing to complain about.

She could have never predicted that things between them would be this easy after their breakup. Sure they would talk, but she figured they would avoid their past, and if they didn't then things would really be awkward. She most assuredly never entertained the idea that they'd mess around after breaking up, or that it would be void of regret and anger. Well...anger at each other. Being with him, physically opening herself up to him and silently asking him to do the same, had been effortless and uncomplicated. She was at a loss as to what would happen next, but that was okay for now. Maybe there didn't need to be a "Next."

He beseeched her, silently asking if it was okay to come closer, and she smiled a sad smile. He straightened but hesitated. Her smile grew though it remained melancholic, so he came to her.

"You okay?"

She folded her arms behind her back and leaned on them. "I told her...we'd be okay. I told her the witches would protect us. Why did I say that?" she looked at him as if he truly held the answer. "I don't know why I said that. They didn't protect her. They never protected me. No one protects me, so why the...hell did I say that? We weren't safe. It's not a _safe_house, and I don't know if it ever was. What was I thinking?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he responded softly.

She closed her eyes, and the threatening tears went away.

"Please tell me you don't blame yourself," he murmured.

She held fast to his lazy voice and opened her eyes. "I don't." After a moment of staring into the vast dark pools of his eyes, she said, "I just...I feel like I'm...floating...I feel like..." She shook her head and straightened. "No one's angry." Her eyes were distant and her voice sounded like she was miles away. "They took her. I didn't want to give her...I didn't want to give _this..._just this once," she whispered. "Just one time. So they took her." _They_ went beyond Damon and Stefan and encompassed everything the two represented, everything she was afraid of, everything she was a part of, everything that made her feel helpless and like if there were dues to be paid she would never ever pay enough. "I'm...bottomless. Right?" She looked into his eyes and said, "There's always something to give. Something to take. I didn't know that...but I guess I do now." She was bottomless, yet she felt like she was stuck at the bottom and couldn't get up. She could only look up, at the light, at where she wanted to be.

Jeremy swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No it's not, and you know it."

"But I don't know what to do about it."

He licked his lips and asked, "Do you wanna go home?"

"No."

"Bonnie."

"I don't want to go home yet, Jeremy."

He sighed.

"But I don't wanna go back in there either," she said, gesturing with her head in the direction of the dance. Just the thought made her stomach act up.

"So what do you wanna do?"

She took a deep breath and straightened from the door. She turned and looked into the dark classroom. When she tried the handle, it gave easily.

"Did you do something?" Jeremy asked as he followed her inside.

"No, it was unlocked," she said in a subdued tone.

"That's smart," he remarked sarcastically. He didn't mean anything by it, of course, because an unlocked classroom away from all of the school authority figures was his kind of scene, but still. Not smart on the part of said authority figures. He felt the wall to his left and turned on the light, revealing Alaric's classroom.

Bonnie's heels clicked on the floor as she used the full length of her legs to measure her steps. She turned to Jeremy with a smile and raised eyebrows.

"This'll do," he conceded. "But we can't stay in here long. Someone's bound to see the light."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Nah," he said, as he walked to the desk and sat on it.

Bonnie put her boa and clutch next to him and proceeded to walk down and up the row of chairs facing Jeremy, touching every desk as she went. She hadn't been in this classroom since prank night. When she walked up to the first desk in the row, she saw Jeremy had taken his suit jacket off and was looking pensive again, his hands resting between his legs.

"I brought you down too, huh?"

Looking at her, he said, "We both knew it wouldn't last. It was only temporary. But it was good while it lasted." He smiled.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"Any time."

She walked up to him at the same pace she'd walked the row of desks and softly kissed him. When they broke apart, she rubbed his cheeks, and he held her waist. She resumed her stroll down the row. "Do you think you can forgive her?" she asked when she came back up, knowing his thoughts were about the compulsion.

"I forgave her last time. She says she's sorry-" he broke off, barely able to talk about it. "I wonder if she is. I wonder if she was the last time. Because I have a feeling; I'm so sure of it; I don't know if I've ever been more sure of something; I have a feeling that...she'd do it again."

His chest tightened, and it was his turn to look at Bonnie as if she could reveal a truth to him, one that would give his thoughts and feelings order, one that would preserve the reality he'd grown up with, the one where his sister's love and desire to protect him did not hurt or anger him.

"She'd do it again," he repeated. "And if that's the case, since I believe that, then...what's the point of forgiving her. It doesn't mean anything. She doesn't really want my forgiveness, or at least...my forgiveness doesn't mean anything. The way I _feel_...if she decides that keeping me safe means compelling me, then that's exactly what's gonna happen," his voice broke, and he teared up. Compulsion was what keeping him safe meant, every time.

"She had no right."

"Doesn't matter," he said, looking at the floor. It wasn't about rights. He could scream at the top of his lungs about how much she had no right, but it wouldn't accomplish anything. He'd stayed up one night thinking about just how much she had no right, yet he was still under compulsion. It wasn't about the right she didn't have; it was about peace of mind. She worried about him and wanted peace of mind from that. So she tinkered with his.

A frown ghosted Bonnie's brow as she watched his face turn stormy and dark. The innocence and softness became marred and deceiving. She wondered at his thoughts, wondered what images he saw, because she too sometimes thought in images when words failed. Sometimes they were good, lighthearted images, but other times images, seeing action instead of words occurred when anger, disappointment, and hurt were too much to put into mental conversations and confrontations.

"I'm sorry." She barely heard herself, so captivated was she by his face and his unspoken thoughts. "Maybe..." she sighed. "Maybe there's a way she can get it. Maybe if you continue living with Matt-"

"I think..." he looked at her. "I need to go farther than Matt. She can't compel me if she can't find me."

"You wanna run away?"

"Not run. I'd tell her." He rubbed his right ring finger. "But yeah, leave. There's no point in staying here. Everything here...nothing that happens here..." He struggled with his thoughts. "I wonder if there's anything here for me."

The only things she felt were the heels of her shoes pushing against the heels of her feet and her fingertips touching the desks at her side. She listened to him.

"I wonder if anything here matters, you know? It can all be taken away with the snap of a finger. Or with the snap of Elena's finger, I guess," he joked. "Nothing good happens here. Not really. It feels like the good things are fleeting while the bad things last. There isn't enough...good to make up for the rest."

She listened to him. Took his words and tucked them in the same place where he'd cheated on her, the same place where he hadn't loved her but instead had been hurting for someone else the whole time, the same place that was devoid of an explanation for how he could look at her and fret over her the way he had while loving someone else, the same place where she'd apparently over-estimated their relationship.

No, there didn't need to be a "Next" after what they'd done this afternoon.

Her voice told him, told the room, that she agreed, but her head and heart asked for that explanation. Her head and heart wanted to know why she didn't have the ability to make up for the bad things, not for him specifically, but for...anyone.

She resumed her walk down the aisle, her back ramrod straight. "When are you leaving?"

He didn't catch the bite in her voice. Bonnie slowed her steps. When he spoke, he sounded distracted.

"I don't know. It's not set in stone yet. I want to leave, but...not yet, I guess."

"A normal life," she said, as she traced a patter on one of the desks before she moved on.

"Maybe not normal, but...more normal than this."

_More normal than being compelled by his big sister_, Bonnie thought.

Jeremy's eyes were fixed on her ass, hence his distraction. The dress molded to it each time she took a step. "Bonnie."

The fact that he stated her name instead of questioning it made her turn around. He was looking at her pelvis, but she assumed he was still musing. He wanted to leave Mystic Falls and carve out a life, a better life, elsewhere. And everything and everyone here would be a memory. Maybe he'd call from time to time. And maybe the calls would become more and more rare as time went on and he met new people and took up new things. He would be free...of everyone here. Bitterness rose fresh and insistent, and she had the strongest urge to help him pack his things. Now. Get him out and away as soon as possible. If he wanted to leave, then she'd be right there to push him out. Maybe she'd call the taxi for him too.

"Have you ever...played with your butt?" He looked up at her face.

"Wha...what?" She couldn't have heard him right. She'd been too busy glaring at him.

He smiled, ignorant of her inner resentment. "Have you ever played with your butt? Or thought about it? Or...thought about someone playing with it?" Oddly, he was not nervous about asking her this.

Bonnie was wholly confused. She saw no link between what he'd been talking about and this inquiry. She had no idea why he wanted to know. "Uh..." she chuckled, lost.

These days it wasn't often that Bonnie Bennett did not have an answer for a question. But in these situations, when they were hyper aware that she had things that he was very interested in looking at, talking about, and touching, in these situations when she wasn't quick on the uptake, he thought she was adorable. And hot in her cluelessness.

"Have you ever played with your asshole? Like, touched it or thought about touching it?"

"Um." She swallowed, looking like someone who had no control over the conversation or the direction of it. "I guess."

"Touched it?"

"No!" she said, lifting her shoulder awkwardly. "Thought about it." She shook her head, still unsure as to what was happening.

"I've thought about it too."

She nodded for lack of anything else to do.

"So...how about we try it? Let me play with it."

He looked very mischievous. His eyes were almost twinkling. Her mouth dropped slowly; she turned slowly, and she slowly resumed her walk. She needed the privacy and time to process. "Why?" Her voice was light but inside she waited for more information.

"It's something I've thought about. From when we were together." He hoped that touching on their former relationship didn't make things weird.

"Really."

"Yeah."

"Have you done it before?"

"No. But we don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"I know that. What is it that you want to do exactly?" Now her voice was liquid, sultry like she was seducing him.

"Whatever you want."

"What do you want?"

Now he was nervous. It crawled low in his stomach. "To touch it?" His voice came out thick. "And to lick it. Both."

Her stomach flipped and she bit her lip, though that didn't stop the smile from flourishing. He wanted to play with her butt, and the thought didn't disturb her at all. In fact she wanted to try it. The rebellious of the 20s and all. And of course there was the obvious opportunity to have Jeremy Gilbert kissing and licking her body. She had decided earlier to let things flow should the circumstances work out in her favor, after all. But there was also the previous conversation about him leaving. He wanted to move away, didn't think there was anything good in Mystic Falls, but he was asking her to let him lick her ass. Fine. If he wanted to tongue her ass before he left to build a better life somewhere else, if he wanted to make her come and make her feel good before he left everything behind, then she would take every advantage and reap the benefits.

She faced him and walked up the row. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He got off the desk and waited.

"Yeah." Her salacious smile matched his. She walked up to him and kissed him.

"Not out here though. Someone might come by," he said when they pulled apart. He walked to the small file room and opened the door. It had enough space for two. "Come on," he said, gesturing inside with his head.

Bonnie grabbed her boa and clutch and his jacket and did a little run to join him. He flipped on the light inside and she paused at the door to turn off the light in the classroom with her telekinesis.

"Good idea," Jeremy said.

Inside, she put the boa, clutch, and jacket on top of the shoulder high (shoulder high for Jeremy) file cabinet and then faced him.

"You're beautiful tonight," he said.

"Thank you."

They moved to each other, and her arms came around his neck while his circled her waist. They kissed slowly while he turned her ninety degrees and walked the short distance so her back could meet the wall. She stroke his neck, her favorite part of his body. Touching it always made her feel warm all over. When she combined touching his neck with kissing him, she always felt a pleasant buzz in her stomach. She moaned in his mouth, dazedly thinking about how soft his neck was. Back when they were together, she used to get hot and horny just by looking at it, picturing the length of time she could spend touching and kissing it. She had never shared this with him though.

She abandoned his lips, slipped one hand under his left arm to rove over his back and explored his neck with her mouth, kissing and nibbling it.

Jeremy became very aware of his dick. She was giving just enough to make him want more. He braced one hand on the wall and used the other to hike up her dress. She moaned on his neck, and it made him want to reach her bare skin faster. "We should turn off the light," he said, distracted. "Someone might see it under the door." She moaned her response, and he forgot what he just said. He pulled her dress up and his hand was on her ass. She was neglecting the other side of his neck, so he moved his head so that she could rectify the situation.

Her moans encouraged him to do more than squeeze her ass. The more time she spent on his neck, the more sensitive he became, and the more aware he was of her. On a curse, he grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her. She responded quickly. The kiss started off hectic, and they eventually tapered off, really tasting each other. By that time he was pinning her against the wall, and she was thinking about climbing his body.

She gave him one last kiss and grabbed his left hand and kissed the center of his palm. Then she kissed each finger. Folding them, she kissed the knuckles, and then she repeated sequence from the beginning, again and again.

They were so close that each felt it when the other breathed. He cocooned her against the wall. She felt very soft against him. Her face as she delicately kissed his hand as if the rest of him wasn't there was serene and free of worry lines. After their conversations at her house and in the hallway, after watching her hold so much in, her shoulders stiff and her eyes hard, after watching how hard she could fight, it was a little awe-inspiring to see the exact opposite, to see how gentle she could be with such innocuous things as his neck and his hand. He wondered if she recognized the change, if she had any idea how amazing she looked. And that's when it hit him like a bucket of cold water thrown on his bare back: he loved her. He still loved her.

It was both a novel realization and an affirmation of something he already knew. He was in love with her. It was the same love as before but also new. New because it wasn't as desperate. He wasn't realizing his love for her amidst uncertainty about her future, amidst fear of losing her. Last time, he'd realized he loved her the night she told him she would be giving it her all when she confronted Klaus. This time, he realized that his feelings for her had not gone away or lessened while they were in an artificially lit file closet with her gently kissing his hand. There was no uncertainty or fear on either of their parts: both were aware that their lives sucked to varying degrees. He loved her as he did before, but no longer did he fear for her. It wasn't the same fear. Last time, he'd been afraid of her pushing herself, of her doing too much and killing herself. Now he accepted that not only did she know her limits but she frequently had the desire to go past them. And if she chose to do that, who was he to stop her or caution her? After all, they weren't living lives fraught with caution. Risk and sacrifice were the combined themes of their lives. There was no such thing as protection. He couldn't protect her. He knew that for certain. He could barely help her.

Earlier in the hallway she said no one protected her. He had felt a dull chafe at that, but the point remained that she didn't feel protected. He'd chaffed because he had tried to protect her when they were together, but more than anything he'd _wanted_ to protect her. And that was where he hit a roadblock and decided that he agreed with her. He wanted to protect her, but in recent days he'd decided that the desire to protect can mean jack shit if it followed with the wrong action or if it wasn't followed with any action at all. And the latter was relevant to his and Bonnie's case. He didn't have the means to protect her. He had the means to kill a Hybrid and to maybe kill a vampire. But he couldn't _protect_ her from vampires.

Had he been in Mystic Falls when her mother was killed...nothing would have changed. His presence wouldn't have made a difference. Her mother would have still died; the only change would have been that he was there. Probably unconscious. He suddenly wanted to laugh, and he wondered if he was a glutton for punishment. He had gone from Vicky, a human, to Anna, a vampire centuries old, to Bonnie, a witch. He'd failed at simply _helping_ the first two. Why did he ever think he could _protect_ a witch? That idea was officially beaten out of him. As far as he was concerned, Bonnie was the ultimate in power. Being a witch and having magic was the ultimate status in power. And he'd once been idealistic enough to think he could protect someone like that. But the truth was that he wasn't a barrier against anyone. If Damon and Stefan kept from throwing him out of their way with a flick of their finger, then it was because they couldn't be bothered, not because he posed a threat or intimidated or commanded respect. His uncle John had posed a threat; John had intimidated; John had commanded respect to the point where he'd been a thorn in the Salvatore brothers' side. He didn't exude that presence.

So yes. Bonnie, the powerful witch with whom he was in love and whom he has the strongest most suffocating desire to protect, didn't feel protected, felt like no one protected her. That included him. And faced with her crying and locking herself away in her house, how could he possibly disagree? There were some areas in which he could make a difference. He'd seen it with his own eyes when he'd killed that Hybrid. But keeping Bonnie safe from these very monsters was not one of those areas. If she, with all of that power and practice and focus and dedication, couldn't keep herself safe, then how the fuck was he supposed to make her feel secure when he had no tangible power and only had tools fashioned by humans and which could be taken away by a vampire quick enough?

He wasn't afraid of her pushing herself anymore. He was sure he would be worried if the time came when she was in danger, but it wouldn't be the same erratic and naive worry from when they were together. He felt a calmness now that was due in part to a certain apathy that came with having his mind compelled twice during times when he was feeling strong, complicated emotions, and it was also due to his response to finding out he'd been compelled a second time by his sister. His eyes were open. He'd lost a little bit of his idealism, but in a lot of ways he was simply letting it go. He didn't have the heart for it anymore even though it saddened him. Not in the environment he was living. Not in Mystic Falls.

His throat suddenly closed up and his eyes stung. He wanted to cry. As he watched her start back again with a kiss in the center of his palm, he wanted to tell her everything. Every single thing. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her and how much he hurt for her and how much he wished he could help her and protect her, take some of the weight off of her. Instead he buried his face in the crook of her neck and fought like hell to keep his face straight when it started to scrunch with the threat of impending tears. His cheeks hurt from the effort, and he kissed her neck to distract himself. "Turn of the lights," he said.

Shrouded in the safety of darkness, he felt safe enough to lift his head and kiss her. She moaned low and long as he poured his heart out through the kiss.

"Wow," she breathed, and he was transported to another time and place, to their first kiss.

"Turn around," he said softly.

Bonnie turned and bit her lip. Only during her worship of Jeremy's neck she'd forgotten why they'd moved to the file closet in the first place, so she was surprised when he lifted her dress while getting on his knees. "Wait!" she whispered intensely while covering her butt with her hands.

"What?" he asked calmly, his hands still holding her dress above her waist.

It now hit her what she'd impulsively agreed to. "Uh." That was just her luck. She'd trimmed her pubic hair only for him to pull a fast one on her and ask to tongue her back door. What was the state of her ass right now? Was it fit for licking? "I..." she chuckled nervously and then swallowed. "I didn't prepare for this," she warned.

"You showered before you came here, right?"

"Yes!" She forgot to whisper in her indignation. His calm tone wasn't helping. She was mortified.

"Okay. And you...washed your butt?"

"I _always_ wash my butt."

Jeremy started laughing, too tickled by the conversation and her ire to resist.

"Okay, you know what?" she turned around.

"No!" he protested.

She washed her butt. Always. She had memories of her dad standing on the other side of the bathroom door, telling her not to forget to wash her "booty."

Jeremy was still on his knees and Bonnie's dress was still raised, only she was holding her own dress now. "Come on, Bonnie."

His voice sounded like sex. She ignored it. "I've been dancing!"

"So?"

Was he really forcing her to say it?

"So I might be sweaty in there," she said forcefully, in hopes of trampling down her embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it."

She scoffed loudly.

"Come on, Bonnie. Just relax and don't think about it." He stroke her thighs. "Unless you've changed your mind..."

After two seconds of silence, she said, "No. I haven't." She turned and faced the wall and bit her lip again. He continued to caress her thighs, which only built her anticipation. Holding her dress with one hand, she put the other on the wall. When he started kissing her butt, she tightened it. She knew he felt it, and she was glad that he chose to continue kissing her instead of making commentary. And he wasn't giving her soft kisses either. He fully pressed his mouth on her ass as if he wanted to leave an impression on every inch of her skin. He kissed under her ass where the skin flowed into her upper thighs.

He squeezed her butt cheeks and then spread them, and Bonnie closed her eyes tight and tried to hold in her smile. Her ass was still tense and he told her to relax. Spreading her legs, she attempted to do just that. He went back to kissing her, and she knew the moment of truth was fast approaching. She gasped when he started licking her butt, pulling the skin into his mouth and sucking. She shifted on her legs while her stomach coiled anxiously. He kissed closer to the slit of her ass, and she wet her lips. Eyes still closed, she waited. He kissed straight down the center of her ass, his thumbs digging into her skin as he held her ass apart. And then it started happening.

He licked up one corner of the inside of her ass, slow and leisure. She exhaled hard. Then he licked the right corner in the same lazy manner. Her mouth was open, and she flexed her fingers against the wall. After kissing the right side of her ass, he went for the gold. He slowly licked the center of her ass from bottom to top, and she bit her bottom lip. Of course she tightened up in response to that. She put her hand on her butt, blocking him from doing it again. "Wait. Hold on. Okay go." She put her hand back on the wall and controlled her breathing. He licked along the same path, starting down and going up. Bonnie slowly opened her eyes and marveled at the feeling of his tongue snaking up her ass, leaving a wet trail. It felt nice. His tongue was stiff and moist and it felt amazing laying flat against her ass.

He spread her ass again and grew more adventurous. He licked up but stopped when he got to her hole and slowly wiggled the tip of his tongue against it. Bonnie flipped out, flattening herself against the wall to get away from his tongue while her stomach felt like it was going to drop to her feet. "Oh God," she whispered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, suddenly out of breath. "Yeah, go ahead."

It wiggled in her asshole. This time it was soft, and it felt thicker. He licked around her hole, and she smiled. She was literally tickled, the many nerve endings around her ass responding to the stimulation. She flexed her feet in her heels and shimmied her legs.

"Still okay?"

"Yeah, keep going," she answered immediately.

He heard the tension in her voice and smiled before going back in. Her ass tasted a bit metallic. It wasn't bad. In fact it was getting better by the second. The more he licked, the better she tasted. She grew comfortable with his tongue and relaxed, going so far as to undulate her hips, occasionally bringing her butt closer to his face. He settled into what he was doing. He licked in order to hear the change in her breathing, for the short sounds she made, and for the times when she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

He swallowed, and she went down easy. He breathed her in and smelled the sweat she was worried about, but it was just enough that mixed with the natural scent of her ass, it aroused him. He widened the amount of skin his tongue covered, going back to licking the length of her crack.

Bonnie rested her forehead on the wall, and it was at that moment that she realized she was hot. Her forehead now felt cooler than the rest of her body. Her skin prickled, and her chest was warm. Her dress felt like it was too much, and her gloves felt unnecessary. She wanted to be naked. Instead she squatted into Jeremy's mouth. Her ass widened as a result and after reaffirming his hold, she felt his tongue square on her hole. It was still soft, but the tip was insistent against her barrier. He slowed down, lazily wiggling his tongue against her. She shivered unexpectedly. "Oh my God."

Her ass felt super sensitive. She bent her waist and pushed her ass back. He moaned as he rimmed her, keeping his tongue locked in that spot. It paid off for both of them because she relaxed further, and her butt hole opened up, allowing his tongue to slip just inside. "Oh my God!" she gasped.

"Damn, Bonnie."

"I'm sorry," she apologized, resting her cheek on the wall.

He gave her a look in the dark, because he didn't hear any remorse in her voice. She sounded like she was in her own world. As soon as his tongue was in, she'd jerked from the feeling, thereby closing her asshole and leaving his tongue out in the cold.

"It felt amazing."

"It tasted amazing," he replied, massaging her butt cheeks.

At that, she turned halfway and touched his head. She ran her fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp. "Everything you hoped for?"

Extra blood flowed into his cock at the way she sounded. Whereas she'd been breathing hard and worming against his mouth before, she now sounded completely calm and in control. He could just imagine what her face looked like. "Yeah. And more."

He bit both cheeks, and she moaned, so he kept it up, nipping his way around her ass. Bonnie kept her hand on his head, steadying and guiding him. He lifted her dress up further and kissed her tailbone, and she added the fabric he'd loosened to the fist that was holding her dress up.

Using the inflexible hold she had on his head, she slowly moved his head back to the center of her ass. He spread her cheeks, letting her know that he knew what she wanted. "Do it the way you were before," she said, stroking his head.

He licked his way up her ass once, wagged his tongue around the rim of her ass once, and then he licked her hole. Her pussy clenched, and her ass pulsed against his tongue. Standing away from the wall and holding her weight, she went into a squat again.

Bonnie created a rhythm where she slowly bounced up and down into his face. Her hand on his head mimicked the movement, messing his hair up in the process. Jeremy's erection grew from the combination of the taste of her ass, her reaction to what he was doing, and the firm hold she had on his head. They both abandoned themselves to what they were doing. His tongue was heavenly, and she complied when he asked her to clench her ass again. She stopped her rhythm in order to do it repeatedly, opening and closing her asshole while he laved it.

It felt foreign against his tongue, both because of the texture of her ass, different from her pussy, and because he wasn't used to eating an anatomy that could move like this. He slurped her ass, and she moaned loudly, making his dick twitch. Going off of her reaction, he continued slurping, and when he eventually went back to tonguing her, she opened up again. He took the chance and stuck his tongue inside, his heart in his throat. He hoped she didn't shimmy away again.

"Oh my God," she breathed, pushing his head in and sticking her ass out because she wanted more. Her calves flexed from her weight, and she struggled to keep her ass from reflexively closing against his tongue.

So as the decade dance roared on, and Klaus effortlessly forced Tyler to let him dance with Caroline, thereby showing him that no amount of self-inflicted pain was going to break the bond, and Damon crashed the party, and vampires and humans alike discovered that they were in effect trapped in a throwback to the 20s, Jeremy and Bonnie expanded on what they were doing.

She had let go of his head in favor of bracing herself on the wall. She'd grown more accustomed to keeping her asshole opened although she slipped once. As Klaus, Stefan, Elena, and Damon examined Esther's barrier, Jeremy wiggled his tongue in Bonnie's ass and made headway, going in a little more than before.

"Yeah, do it." Bonnie's vulva felt dense, and she wondered if she could orgasm from his tongue in her ass alone. She wanted to. "Oh yeah!" she moaned loudly when he widened the little he could of his tongue, both stretching her and allowing him to go in a minuscule distance further. He backed off and rimmed the skin around her asshole, and she shivered again.

Just when he'd managed to get his tongue inside again, her stomach rolled, her chest felt like it grew, and her neck pricked. She moved away from his mouth without even realizing it. Something from another plane pulled at her. Another eye graced her with supernatural knowledge as her psychic ability kicked into gear. "Jeremy," she said, her voice sounding urgent. She couldn't help it. While it wasn't a vision, she _felt_ something. She _knew_. Like how she'd known where the wooden spoon was the night she'd stood in Elena's kitchen a year ago. "Someone's looking for me."

Jeremy swallowed and tried to focus on what she was saying. The fact that she stepped to the side and away from him, letting her dress fall in the process, helped a lot.

"Someone's coming," she said, feeling a little out of it, like her mind was occupying two levels of awareness. She was with Jeremy, but she was also in the school hallway. Her psychic ability had never manifested like this before. It was different from arbitrary knowledge of numbers, knowledge of where an object like the spoon was, and it was definitely different from being transported to another time as with visions. It was a very dormant version of telepathy, as all knowledge comes from someone _somewhere, _whatever the time, place, or state of existence. And unlike Elena with the wooden spoon and Damon with the moonstone, this person was looking for another living thing: her.

She reached out blindly with her telekinesis, and turned on the lights. Jeremy had stood up and was currently squinting from the light. When she was able to fully open her own eyes, she noticed how disheveled he was. His hair was all over the place. She hoped she didn't look worse. A look at his crotch showed his pants were tented, which reminded her of the wetness in her ass. Smiling despite herself, she gave him a quick kiss and opened the door.

"Who's coming?" he asked as he grabbed his jacket, her clutch, and her feather boa.

"I don't know," she said as she stepped out. Using her power again, she turned on the lights in the classroom.

Jeremy reached back and turned off the light in the file closet and closed the door. He mentally cursed. He was horny. He wasn't in the state to be seen. He put their stuff on the desk, and Bonnie looked back at him. She had moved closer to the door. She almost looked ethereal. The red lipstick helped although it was a little faded. It occurred to him, "Do I have lipstick on my face?" he asked while touching his mouth.

"Yeah, a little." She walked up to him and wiped it off. "No one will notice."

"If no one shows up..." he said, voice deep and slow as molasses.

"We'll go back in there," she finished with a suggestive smile.

The door suddenly opened and Bonnie quickly spun to face whoever it was.

Damon Salvatore stood in the archway looking annoyed and surly. Because Bonnie was vertically challenged, he had a direct view of Jeremy's unruly hair. "Sorry to spoil your seven minutes in heaven. We have a problem."

He waited for her. He stood and waited though not for long. There was a problem, just like there had been many problems before and he'd let her know so that she could do something about it. She gathered her boa and clutch and followed him, not even waiting for Jeremy, not even looking at him, not even aware of him anymore. She was in another mode now. Her mind started screaming, but she could barely hear it. There was a sound, but it was drowned out. They walked the hallway together, her heart heavy, and she heard him speaking about the "weird barrier that's keeping everybody locked in and I mean everybody. The natives are starting to freak, but most are video taping it."

"What is it?" she asked.

"That's what we need you to tell us. There's a line of salt going around the building. Klaus thinks it's mommy dearest."

He was looking at her now, his blue eyes bright. She looked up at him too, but her head felt heavy. The muted scream continued. "Klaus?" She wanted to ask why he was here, but she shelved that in favor of asking, "Why does he think that?"

"Well she never finished killing her kids, 'member? She's probably back to finish the job. Not to mention his sister," he continued, using air quotes to emphasize the word sister, "Was pretty insistent on him coming to the dance, only for her to be M.I.A. from the festivities herself."

"He thinks she's possessed," she deduced.

"And Alaric's missing."

_What the hell does Alaric have to do with anything?_ she thought impatiently.

They stepped outside and it was then that she remembered Jeremy's presence. A look behind her confirmed that he was there, but he wasn't looking at her. While there was a small group of people in front of the line of salt, most of them were on the other side. Late arrivals. She and Damon veered a little to the left and six pairs of eyes fastened on her. Elena, Stefan, Klaus, Tyler, Caroline, and Matt stood off to the side, away from the crowd so that no one could hear them. Their eyes ranged from highly expectant (Klaus and Elena) to quietly expectant (Matt and Caroline) to non-committal (Tyler) to quietly impassive (Stefan).

"Why do you think Alaric's connected to Esther?" she asked.

"Because we had a weird conversation earlier where he said he was going away to recuperate. A swing by his apartment, and he was gone, but I did find a lovely coffin with Rebekah's daggered body in it."

"What's she hoping to do with a mortal?" Jeremy asked, his voice deep and lazy.

"Anything she wants; she's a witch, isn't she?" Damon answered condescendingly, turning to look at him.

Jeremy put his hands in his pockets and looked at the barrier, his jaw muscles ticking once.

"We think she's going to use Alaric as some kind of weapon to kill her kids since the first plan failed," Elena said. She wasn't just expectant. Her eyes also plead and at the same time apologized. They worried for Alaric and were scared for him.

"He's got an alter-ego with a serious grudge against vampire sympathizers," Damon continued. "She'll probably twist that and make him come after us, not to mention," at that, he pointed his eyes at Elena, as if he didn't need to say her name because she was their common code, so of course Bonnie would get the urgency of the situation.

Amid all of the chatter, her internal screaming had stopped, but everything was eerily quiet. Despite the high school kids wondering what's going on and despite Damon and Elena talking right in front of her, there was a strange silence that wound over their words so that by the time they made it to her eardrums, everything, their sense of urgency and worry and fear, was diluted, keeping her from sharing in any of it, though she still recognized their emotions.

Something about Esther's chosen method to barricade them nagged at her. "Where do you think she is?"

"No idea," Klaus said. "I need you to find her after you take down the barrier. I trust my blood will be enough."

"Your blood? Are you sure it's still the same as hers?" she asked calmly. "How much blood have you drunk over the years?" she added to further emphasize her point.

"A lock of hair then," he retorted, already losing patience. "And time is of the essence."

They could still run into the same problem. Klaus' hair follicles had probably changed from the different types of blood he'd drunk over the years, but this was one of the rare times when something else might be more reliable than blood magic. "Well I don't have my books, and this isn't a simple seal, so it will take some time."

She walked around him and then walked along the salt line. Esther hadn't bought countless salt containers and dumped them in a circle. It would have taken too much time to create the perfect circle going around the school.

**A/N 2: This fic is six chapters long and is already completed. The chapters will get progressively shorter as the fic nears its end.**


	3. Chapter 3

**"I Feel Like Dancing"**

They all congregated in the classroom she'd previously occupied with Jeremy. The man in question still stood away from her, almost as if he was at the outskirts of the entire problem. He wasn't abandoning her; he was simply giving her room, letting her do what she wanted. It was part of his resolution to not hover and fret anymore.

Matt stood with his back to the door in order to prevent anyone from seeing what was happening inside.

"She turned the soil under the school into salt."

Jeremy took a step forward, intrigued.

"She used her magic" _my family's magic_ "to copy the natural salt in the soil and converted the whole thing," Bonnie explained, lifting her shoulders awkwardly.

Jeremy knew there wasn't _that_ much natural salt in soil. He was impressed and wished he could have watched Esther do it.

"I just have to change it back into soil."

"Get to it then," Klaus said.

She saw Stefan budge at Klaus' unnecessary comment. It wasn't much movement. He just swayed from side to side. The old vampire hadn't said it in any way meant to demean or hurry. It was a simple comment. But something about her posture must've told Stefan that they were all skating on thin ice.

Bonnie swallowed and looked around the room at all of them. She stood behind Alaric's desk and felt like there was an ocean separating her from them. Jeremy ceased to exist altogether. She saw the rest.

And none of them were angry.

She looked down, a frown appearing on her brow.

"I hope you're not foolish enough to let my mother do this. She plans to kill _all_ of my siblings, including me. And if I go, so does everyone in this room. So does your mother. They are all...descended...from me."

"Bonnie?" Elena. She was frowning as she looked at Bonnie, her eyes shining.

Their emotions went from being diluted to completely mute. They were speaking words. Bonnie didn't recognize the words. Whatever they were feeling...it had nothing to do with her. She didn't care.

With that realization, she could hear again. No one was angry, and she didn't care. The first thing she heard was her own voice. "So?" It was quiet, almost timid. It was the slight shrug of her shoulders in addition to the formation of her mouth that let most of the room know what she had just said. "So?" she asked. Louder. Clearer.

She looked at Caroline and she, too, was frowning now. She saw the total lack of understanding.

"You'd be willing to kill all of your friends?" Klaus asked quietly, his voice smooth. He was frowning as if he truly wanted to know, but Bonnie knew he wasn't really curious. "Including Caroline. Dear Tyler. You'd be willing to kill your mother. Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"I don't know," she said curtly. "I can't imagine why. How many times have you stabbed your own siblings? What are you gonna do to your mother once-if-I let you out of here? You tell me how possible it is that I'm serious."

"Bonnie," Elena cut in. "Please. You...I..." It was hard for her to wrap her mind around what was happening. "He might be lying, and he's not really Caroline and your mom's ancestor."

"I'm not and I am," Klaus interrupted.

"But Esther plans to kill all of her children," Elena continued, "Rebekah, Kol, Elijah, _and_ Klaus. What happened with Finn will repeat. _All_ of the vampires will die. Including your mom. Please."

Elena was still on the other side of the desk. She was still an ocean away. "I don't care," Bonnie said softly. "I really don't care."

"I know you're angry-"

"No, you don't," she said softly and looked at Stefan. "You don't," she repeated, looking at Elena. "But it doesn't matter," she said, coming to her final decision. "It doesn't matter what you know. We can talk about it afterward." She shrugged. "I'm not doing anything."

And with that she felt a calmness that she'd been missing for a long time now. She walked from behind the desk, on the side containing the door out of the classroom.

"You're pissed about what happened to your mom," Damon said, coming up to her.

"Damon." This from Stefan.

"We did what we _could_," he said, his eyes blazing. "Elijah gave us an ultimatum and _I _made the decision that would save everyone's necks."

"I'm sure you did," she said, unmoved. "He threatened to kill Elena, and you just couldn't let that happen. I understand. I do." She stared at him, and he stared at her. She wanted him to know that she accepted what happened. It's what she did. Other people made decisions. Chose, for themselves, for the ones they loved, and she was always left picking up the pieces of her face. Her dad, her mom, Jeremy, Elena, now Stefan and Damon. She always understood, and she always showed that fact by not making a fuss. She was satisfied when Damon finally saw the resolution in her eyes. She knew he had by the way he looked down the length of her body as if he was reassessing just who was standing in front of him.

She turned to leave and was stopped again by Klaus.

"All right, then. You don't care about the undead." He sped to Jeremy and picked him up by his neck. The agitated boy immediately started to struggle, clawing at Klaus' hand to free his neck. "Make one move and I snap his neck sooner than intended," he said to Stefan, though he didn't look at him. Instead he turned to Bonnie. "I seem to remember this having quite an effect the last time we met."

Jeremy kicked Klaus' side, but that had a terrible effect on his neck: Klaus' grip tightened and red spots invaded his vision.

"Jeremy!" Elena yelled.

Calmness reigned over Bonnie. She even smiled. "Don't let me stop you. Kill him."

"Young Jeremy. You were so affected the last time his life was threatened, and I hadn't even touched him yet."

"So you thought I'd show back up with an open heart, as vulnerable as I was before, when I'm surrounded by _vultures_," she spat. "Is that what you thought would happen? _Kill_ him. You'll still be stuck at this dance. I'm in no danger of dying. As a matter of fact," she said, taking a step forward. "I feel like dancing," she enunciated. "I'm okay with my _mother_ dying. And you still think I'd lose it over a boy? I don't care, Klaus," she said softly. "I'm leaving when I want to. _I_ have the ability to contact my mother when she's on the other side. So really. What am I losing?"

She turned and marched to the door and came face to face with Matt. He blocked her. It was quick, but she saw it: he tensed when she stopped in front of him, and he looked above her head. He actually took a consensus from everybody else as to whether or not he should let her leave. Whatever everyone else had decided, his eyes then met hers. She smiled at him, a smile that said everything about the side he'd chosen once he decided that he was indeed going to get involved, and he swallowed hard. Good.

Tyler walked away from the group and sat on a desk.

"All right. What do you want?" Klaus asked, dropping Jeremy. The latter charged at him, only to be stopped by Stefan. Jeremy ripped himself out of Stefan's clutches, yelling at him to stay the hell away from him.

"All right," Damon cut in as if he was quieting quarreling kindergardeners. "Obviously emotions are a little high."

"Do you want them dead?" Klaus asked, pointing to Damon. He sounded less than confident now.

With a last pointed look at Matt, Bonnie turned to face him.

"I can kill them for you. Or hold them somewhere so you can torture them any time you want."

"Death sounds better."

"Bonnie-" Stefan hesitated. "I'm sorry. There's no explaining what we did. There is no excuse. It's something that shouldn't have happened." He wouldn't parrot Damon. He wouldn't say they did what they could. That string of words was not in his repertoire. Saying that they did what they could was a kind of apology, one that he was fundamentally incapable of making to Bonnie specifically, though it wasn't a conscious flaw. He didn't go further than what he said. He didn't add a supplication for her to please save them. He felt that it would either happen or it wouldn't.

Caroline wanted to say something, but a big part of her still struggled to believe that this was really happening.

"_Anything_," Klaus seethed.

Esther might've already executed her plan. Alaric might be dead, sacrificed. Bonnie didn't need long to examine how she felt about that. She was okay with it. Why not? Alaric was no better than her mother. There was no reason why she needed to save him where she'd failed to save her mother. Not again, not after she'd rescued his sanity.

"Pay me," she blurted out. She was positive that Klaus, Elena, Stefan, and Damon stopped breathing. "Pay me," she repeated, to let them know that they weren't hearing things.

"Anything you want," Klaus answered.

"Not anything," she retorted. She paced to the front of Alaric's desk. "Thirty thousand dollars," she decided on the spot, leaning down on the desk. "For emotional compensation. For having to talk to you," she said, looking at Damon, "after what you did to my mother."

"Fine," Damon said, his teeth showing. His chest was calming down. The witch really had him worried. He remembered now why she used to occupy his thoughts back when it was one of his priorities to get in her good graces. She wasn't ever backed into a corner.

"I'm not done," Bonnie said, starting to feel comfortable in her own skin again. "I want five-hundred thousand dollars."

"For _what_?" Damon asked, ever the scrupulous spender.

"For my ability to _do_ magic. For my ability to do something you can't. For my _skill_."

Jeremy looked on, impressed and proud. He still had trouble swallowing.

"I want seventy thousand dollars in health compensation." When Damon's lips lifted in doubt, she explained. She didn't care about revealing that particular hand anymore. She now had something better in its place. She'd never thought of them as family, _them_ meaning their little group. But she had thought some of them were closer than others, some being Elena and others being the Salvatores. She thought she and Elena were close, that they were family. And slowly that had been eroded, and she'd been left picking up the pieces of her face. Well she was in the process of picking up the last piece. She was in the process of making her own decision for once. After that? They could all either understand and pick up their own pieces or they could protest, but she was going to get hers tonight. The more she spoke, the more amazing she felt. She had the floor. After three days of being a shut-in, after three weeks of emotional turmoil starting with her mother's death, she finally had the floor. None of them were angry about her mom's death. Well she no longer needed them to be angry.

Getting up from the desk, she elaborated. "Magic happens because I _give_ something of my body." She paced slowly in front of them. "It doesn't happen out of thin air. I give my energy. Every time. Every spell, no matter how minor." She stopped in front of Elena, but she didn't look directly at her. "And I'm not infinite. Sometimes I overdo it. I _have_ over done it. It hurts. A lot." She was standing in front of Elena. She could feel her eyes on her, and through her peripheral vision, she saw her frown and swallow. Good. She was learning something new. "It tires me out. Seventy thousand dollars insurance for my body."

She realized after one second that seventy thousand was a little low. After all, magic had the ability to end her life. And her life was pretty valuable to them. She should say one-hundred-thousand dollars, but she decided to adjust the prices later. She was making this up on the spot.

"And that's just the base pay," she continued. "The down payment. Every time." She couldn't think of anything else at the moment. "How much is that?" she walked behind the desk, but before she could see either pen or paper, Stefan did the math for her.

"Six-hundred thousand."

She smiled at him.

"I'll write you a check by the end of the night," Klaus said.

"No we'll do it," Stefan decided, stepping forward. "We're good for it. This is personal. We're the reason..." he couldn't continue, didn't know how.

"It's not that personal," Bonnie said, speaking of the decision they had made in regards to her and her best interest.

Stefan's gaze intensified and smoldered, and he gave a short nod.

"Tomorrow morning. Bright and early, I want the check at my house." Or the headline for Monday's Mystic Chronicle would be talking about a mysterious arsonist who had burned down the Salvatore boarding house. Her heart felt like it was going to take flight.

"Now let's talk about the specific spells I'll be doing tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Anon1: The crapfest that was Bonnie's characterization in 3.20 is what drove me to write this fic. I love season 1 Caro too. These days she gets lots of seasons, but no real opinions on anything.**

**Liz: I don't think he'd cheat on her either, but JP loathes Bonnie. I sincerely believe she does. You're exactly right about why Bonnie was okay with Caroline dying, but what Matt did was not for Tyler and Caroline ;).**

**Teri: Bonnie not resenting Jaime is ooc. She's not a saint who can parse through her feelings right off the bat. We've seen how emotional and resentful she can get, like when she tried to kill Damon after Caroline turned. Like all the times she's given Damon aneurysms. So I don't know what JP's been smokin'.**

**Different From The Other Times**

Soon after, everyone left the room so she could work. Elena had to be walked out by Stefan, so numb was she. Caroline had to be walked out by Tyler. Matt was henceforth stuck in his head, dealing with the implications of the split decision he'd made by the door. Jeremy was the last to leave. He and Bonnie shared a look on his way out, one that didn't communicate much beyond the fact that they were both still here, still present and standing.

Alone with her feather boa and clutch, Bonnie closed her eyes and exhaled when she was sure all of them were far enough away. She sat in Alaric's chair and almost cried with relief. She hadn't been bluffing. She'd been completely serious, and the feeling of it now that she was alone and away from so many of those prying eyes was very heady. She supported her chin with her hands. Yes, she'd been willing to let Caroline die. That's the point she was at right now. Her friend might still die. She might be too late. Alaric might be dead. And she was okay with all of that. She would mourn Caroline and remember her; she would make sure everyone remembered her. But she wasn't going to be the one being tossed around in this game of hardball. She needed to do what she could to remain functional, needed to be something more than a phobic mess who couldn't hang around crowds. And surrounded by these people, vultures she'd called them, in this environment, this was what she felt she needed to do.

She wasn't going to run like her mother. She wasn't going to leave like Jeremy. Maybe what she'd said earlier was symbolic of another part of her chipping away. Or perhaps she'd finally found what was at her core after weeks of being pushed around. She wasn't sure which it was, but she felt good about what she'd done a couple of minutes ago. She wasn't their priority. She could deal with that. She'd just found a way. She was going to get paid. They hadn't thought about her mother's death. Everything was fine because Jeremy was back and Tyler was back and Alaric was on his way to feeling better. While she was stuck in her house. Well from this point forward they were going to pay her for her magic. Every time they even thought about coming to her for help, they were going to think about what exactly they were asking her to do, and they were going to _remember_ why things had changed.

While she came up with a spell to transform salt into water (simpler than turning it back into soil since she had no idea what kind of spell Esther had used, so turning it back to soil might cause complications) and then got one of Alaric's maps of Mystic Falls out of the file closet and used Klaus' hair to start looking for Esther (it took longer than usual because she had nothing of Esther's to help the process), Jeremy and Elena had a small argument in the hallway. It started when she asked him if he was okay, touching him in order to better fret. He shrugged her off and told her he was fine, his voice almost gone from the pressure Klaus had applied to his throat. When Damon brought up the possibility of killing Alaric, Elena protested. Jeremy told him to do what he needed to do and walked away. Shocked, Elena followed him and once again tried to apologize, believing that Jeremy's attitude was due to anger at the part Alaric played in his compulsion. Alaric was dying, Bonnie had just struck out, and Jeremy was walking away from her. Her world was being pulled apart at some very important seams.

Caroline and Tyler had drifted off to a quiet spot in one of the hallways. He asked her if she was okay, but she didn't answer, looking catatonic. He didn't press the issue because he had his own troubles to figure out.

By the time Bonnie finished, everyone was standing outside in the same place she'd found them when she'd been escorted by Damon. Upon word from her that the barrier was down (something Klaus and Damon had witnessed when they'd watched the salt turn to water) and that Esther was at the Salvatore mausoleum, Klaus immediately sped off.

"Thank you," Stefan said when she turned.

"Slide the check under the front door if you want."

"Tyler and I can go hold her off," Caroline suggested to Elena, speaking for the first time.

Tyler wanted to protest.

"Jeremy and I can get Alaric out of there," Matt added.

"I don't think Jeremy's going anywhere," Elena said.

"Okay, we gotta go," Damon said with finality and he walked off.

Bonnie looked at Elena for the first time. She didn't need to say she wasn't going. Her friend looked completely lost, her eyes shining with perpetually unshed tears. She swallowed determinedly, locking her resolve in place, and walked off with Stefan and Matt.

Bonnie stayed behind and watched the water roll away. She decided that she would charge them five-thousand dollars for the locator spell (which included the use of a live ingredient: Klaus and his hair follicle. She needed to work out how much she would charge if she ever needed to cut someone for the spell to work, like she'd once done with Jeremy) and seven-thousand for the fact that she'd transformed one element in nature into another.

"Bonnie."

She turned, surprised by the voice. "Tyler. I...I thought you left."

He shook his head. "Klaus will be there. I told Caroline it might be better for everyone if he didn't have a secret weapon."

She frowned. "I thought you broke your sire bond." Wasn't that why he'd returned?

Air blew out of his mouth as he chuckled, shaking his head at himself and putting his hands in his pockets. "Turns out I didn't. I learned that tonight."

She could tell by the way his mouth formed the words that he was suppressing his irritation.

"So...how much would you charge me if I asked you to break it for me?"

"What?" She was taken aback.

"If Klaus is right and we're all descended from him, then he's not gonna die any time soon, and I..._really_ don't want to be dragged around the world, catering to his every whim. I tried to break the bond, and...it didn't work. So maybe magic will do it." _Or maybe the bond just can't be broken._ He pushed the thought away.

He looked desperate while trying not to look desperate.

"So how much does it cost to break a sire bond?"

She smiled a genuine smile. "I don't know. How much you got?" she asked, cocking a hip. There were appointments scribbled in her mother's grimoire as well as small rituals with names attached to them. Her mother hadn't stopped practicing completely. She wondered if the woman had ever negotiated her services. She also remembered John Gilbert telling her that Emily used to be called on to heal the sick of Mystic Falls.

Tyler fixed his hat and said, "Well...about six-hundred." If the prices she'd thrown out earlier were any indication, then he was screwed.

"That's it?"

"My mom has the money, not me."

"Yeah, but surely you get more than that in allowance?"

"I _had_ more. I spent it over time."

Bonnie pursed her lips and looked away.

"Are you really gonna-? Look, I can give you the money over time. Or maybe this one can be on the house since it's the first one you're doing for me, and you can charge me for the next one."

She almost agreed with his logic, but then, "Wait. I don't do _any_ spells for you, so this one would actually just be...free."

Caught, he stayed silent.

She chuckled at his attempt at subterfuge and looked back at the water. "I'll think about it," she said distractedly. Realizing how that sounded, she clarified, "I'll think about what I can do for you."

Surprised, Tyler felt the need to make sure. "Are you...you're serious?"

"Yeah," she said, looking back at him. She gave him a small smile.

"Thanks," he said, relieved.

She looked back at the wet ground.

"Are you looking for something?" he asked, walking to stand next to her and looking down.

"Hey."

Jeremy. She had meant to find him. She was surprised by her desire to walk into his arms. Despite the fact that he looked tightly wound at the moment, his appearance was like precious cool wind at the beginning of a thunderstorm. His jacket was back on. "Hey," she said. "Something about this whole thing is bothering me."

"What?" he asked, stopping in front of her and Tyler.

"Esther used salt. _A lot_ of salt, something that everyone can see. I would think she'd use salt for a private ritual or some place no mortal would see. I mean that's what I'd do," she said, lifting her shoulders. "So why would she basically expose her magic? And when I found her," she continued, glancing at Tyler, "There was no barrier."

"Maybe she didn't think you'd find her in time," Jeremy said. _Maybe she was right_, he thought silently, wondering about Alaric.

The woman had sought Bonnie out when she wanted to kill her children. She and her mother had been nothing more than decorations for Esther's ritual, true, but she didn't agree that Esther would be sloppy when she was so close to her goal. "She could've just put a seal on the school. No one would see it, and she could make it so that only the mortals could leave." Seals could be tailored to be super specific, which is why, even though they looked easy (an invisible barrier, no traces), they were hard incantations to perform. Her eyes lit up with understanding, and she looked again at the wet ground.

Neither Jeremy nor Tyler asked for clarification, Jeremy because he knew she would share in the next second, and Tyler because he was a little out of his element with all this talk of magic.

"I think she's running out of magic," Bonnie said, sounding surprised. "I think...she's dying. She used natural elements to help her with the spell, the soil in the earth." She looked at Jeremy and hoped he'd remember the times she had to use fire and water to give her enough strength to get through her spells before she got a nosebleed.

"Why is she dying?" Tyler asked, feeling out of the loop.

"My...my mom," she answered, thinking. "When Damon and Stefan killed her, they broke Esther's link to...magic, basically. The only reason she could be here is because she was pulling a lot of magic from my family line to keep her going. My mom is a vampire now; that means she's not a witch anymore. She has no power," she explained to Tyler. "And that's killing Esther," she said when she looked at Jeremy.

Tyler tried to wrap his mind around it. How old was Bonnie's family line? All of those people and _one_ break in the chain is killing Esther? He couldn't help but think that with potency like that, maybe he'd have a fighting chance after all when it came to his free will.

"So what do we do?" Jeremy asked. "If she's dying, then she's desperate. I mean she's using a human. They have no idea what they're gonna find when they get there."

"If she's weak, then her hold on my family's magic is weak. So maybe I can break it once and for all."

That spell, she would do for free. She walked back to Alaric's classroom with Jeremy and Tyler withJeremy trying and failing to reach his sister, Stefan, and Damon in order to warn them. Bonnie came up with her second original spell that night, the spell she'd created to transform the salt being the first. She had memorized the locator spell from Emily's grimoire. It took some time for her to come up with the spell to banish Esther. Enough time that Esther put a hex on Elena, one that almost drained every last pint of blood in her body, successfully keeping Stefan distracted. Elena coughed blood at an alarming rate, sounding like she was choking on it at times. And she hexed Caroline with an hallucination, one that had her seeing large abscesses sprouting all over her skin, even splitting the corners of her lips. The girl screamed bloody murder, yelling at the top of her lungs for Matt's help. She set her new toy on Damon. She'd make Alaric kill him first to make sure her spell had succeeded.

While Caroline's skin flushed a deep red and she hyperventilated, her breath on the verge of stopping from the amount of panic she was experiencing, Bonnie closed her eyes and did her spell. She included some key phrases from the spell she'd cast with her grandmother when she sent the ghosts back and closed the veil.

Magic flowed through her, wound in her gut and expanded in her chest. It felt distant, different from the other times, the times before her mother's death, but she felt more present while casting this spell than she felt while casting the spells and doing the rituals that had been required of her since Abby's turning. Her faced tightened as she got into it and her jaw muscles ticked. A separate thought sprouted in the corner of her mind: she was not going to be able to break Tyler's sire bond with her usual methods of taping into the earth. She was sure of it, the knowledge more clear in fact than the spell she was currently doing. She would need a different kind of magic.

The lights flickered and Jeremy threw a quick glance at the door to make sure they hadn't acquired an audience. Tyler gave a quick start, his heart rate accelerating as he felt the air in the classroom shift. His ears and nose tickled, something he knew came from his werewolf side. A frown deepened his forehead and he tightened his jaw. He hadn't expected to be able to feel the magic. He hated the comparison, but it was like a dog whistle. He felt completely put out and uncomfortable. He tore his gaze from Bonnie to look at Jeremy who simply focused on his ex. Tyler took a step back and swallowed hard. How was he going to react once she performed a spell _on_ him?

Once she'd uttered the last word after her third repetition, Bonnie stood still, waiting for the last vestiges of the buzz to pass through her, waited for the last wisp of magic to brush her skin, the feeling more metaphysical than physical. She usually had to rush through this part, opening her eyes right after, which always left her feeling a little unbalanced afterward, but this was one of her favorite parts when it came to spell casting.

She opened her eyes, the feeling still not quite the same as before. Jeremy was staring at her hard. The look in his eyes was very familiar and after how things had ended between them, she couldn't deny liking the fact that he still had the same reaction to her spellcasting, the same look of intense wonder and fascination.

She looked at Tyler who was standing behind Jeremy, and her attitude sobered. He was staring hard at her too. She couldn't imagine why, but it made her look away and swallow uncomfortably. She knew Tyler Lockwood had a fierce stare. She'd seen him use it on people, girls especially. He had only used it on her a couple of times, back when they ran in closer circles and he'd get irritated at her (he irritated her too).

"It's done," she said quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

**When Navigating a Cruel World...**

When Bonnie walked through her front door, she felt like she'd been out partying all night. She and Jeremy had left Tyler, who was waiting for a phone call from Caroline. Her eyes were heavy; there was a kink forming in the middle of her back; and her feet had grown tired of the heels. Her body told her it should be dawn even though midnight hadn't yet struck.

Jeremy closed the door behind her. He'd called Elena in his car while he drove behind Bonnie, only to reach her voicemail. He'd tried Stefan next, and he managed to reach him, and he let him know what Bonnie had done. He hadn't asked, but Stefan had told him that Ric wasn't in great shape. Esther had fed him a townie and now he was a vampire. "Okay," Jeremy had said passively, his eyes unfocused. Elena had taken the phone from Stefan to update Jeremy on Ric's choice. He'd said, "I get it," and then he'd ended the call.

Bonnie deposited her boa and clutch on the couch and then walked to Jeremy who had taken a seat on the arm of one of the white chairs, the same one in which she'd been coiling in ecstasy hours earlier. She needed to get to work on that solvent.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

He shook his head, and he still looked like he wasn't there. When he answered, he sounded detached, just like when they'd been eating chips and salsa at her dining room table hours earlier. "He's a vampire. Elena said he wants to die," he said resolutely, and he looked at her.

"You should go. Be with him."

"I don't feel like going."

"You might regret it."

"I won't. He's not the problem. Besides, I'm never there when they die anyway. Why change that now?" He didn't want Alaric to die in the way people didn't want someone they'd grown accustomed to to die. It wasn't the same as not wanting family to die, but Alaric's death was part of a bigger problem, part of a pattern.

"He might want to see you."

He shook his head.

Bonnie looked down and swallowed.

"You can go if you want to."

"Are you kidding?" she asked, looking up. She smiled when he smiled. "After what happened earlier?" She sobered. "About that..." she lifted her shoulders.

"You meant it. Klaus could've called your bluff..."

"I wasn't bluffing," she answered quickly and swallowed past the block in her throat. "None of it was a bluff," she said softly. It was reaffirming to say it out loud to someone. She didn't look away from his eyes, and he held hers. She saw understanding, which baffled her a little.

He looked down, and so did she. His hands were clasped between his legs, and what she saw, or rather what she _didn't_ see, made her take a step back. "Jeremy...where's your ring?"

He looked up, and everything in her stilled.

"I took it off."

"When?" She forced the word pass her mouth.

"Two days ago, when I moved out."

Subtle alarm covered her eyes, and he grinned. He grinned and then chuckled.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," he answered gleefully.

"It's not funny."

"No, it's not. Would you have done it differently? If you'd known I wasn't wearing my ring...would that have changed anything?" he asked quietly.

Her irritation dissipated, and she stiffened her jaw. "No. I wouldn't have."

"I know. Because you weren't bluffing."

He looked down, and she wanted to tell him that it had nothing to do with him, but at the same time she had been willing to let him die. She would have let him die to prove her point. But she still...liked him? Does that make sense? Does that make up for anything? Looking at him playing with his fingers, she knew she didn't want him to die. Him dying would be a bad thing. But while she'd been standing in that classroom, alone amidst people, she had been willing to do what she could to...to strike back, to stand out, to not be comfortable at rock bottom. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes glimmering with tears.

"Don't be." He looked at her. "It's what we do. It's what everyone does. This is our lives. You did what you had to to feel in control. I get it." His words passed through tight lips.

Perfect. She was now in the same category as his sister. "There's nothing good in Mystic Falls, right?" She forced a smile, but it wavered, and she moved away from him to lean on the arm of the couch. She wanted to fix her face. She wanted to stop the tears from overflowing. He was right. This was their lives, and she'd known and accepted that a long time ago. But it seemed there was more for her to accept. She'd just used her...whatever he was...Jeremy...to prove a point, and while she didn't regret it; she did hate it.

She frowned deep to keep from crying.

"Bonnie, I sad it's okay."

And she'd told Elena a couple of days ago that she forgave her, yet her heart wasn't exactly going out to her right now with regards to Alaric's misfortune. For that reason, because of her own personal experience, she scoffed at his reassurance. Did it hold any more meaning than what she'd told Elena?

She continued to ignore him to fight her inner battle, and when she blinked, he was in front of her. He held her face and caressed from her left temple down to her cheek. There, he cupped it. His thumb continued to trace slow lines on her cheek. He brought his other hand up to play with the right side of her face. "I said it's okay."

He leaned down, and she watched him before angling her face up to meet him in a kiss.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked when they separated.

"I don't know," he said, still holding her face as if it was the natural thing to do. "I'll have to move back home. I can't leave her alone."

"And tonight?"

"Go back to Matt's." He let go of her face. "Get my stuff."

She swallowed. "You can hang out here until you're ready to go."

He gave her a small smile. "That might be a while."

She offered a small shrug. "You can spend the night. My dad won't be back until Wednesday."

He nodded wordlessly, hesitant and grateful.

She stood and he moved off to sit on the couch, looking like he was retreating to his thoughts. Bonnie grabbed her boa and clutch and headed up. "You can upstairs," she said while climbing the steps.

It was a second before he heard that she'd spoken, so busy was he envisioning what lay ahead for him and his sister and for everyone after tonight. Then he comprehended what she said and he looked at her retreating back, and he couldn't help his understated smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Next**

Bonnie was rubbing moisturizer on her neck when she heard the buzzing in her bedroom. She'd taken a quick shower, with Jeremy sitting in her bedroom, and now his phone was buzzing.

She crossed the threshold in her pale blue pajama pants and brown tank top, her hair still tucked under the cap that had allowed her to wear Tikki's wig. She put her arms around herself as she walked. Jeremy was sitting with his thigh on the bed and his other leg touching the floor. His jacket and tie were off.

The phone buzzed loudly on the bed, Elena's name in bright lights. She watched him swallow hard. Then the buzzing stopped. Her lips felt like they were glued together. He looked so melancholy that he unsettled her.

The voicemail icon spun on his phone, and he finally looked away from it.

She took a step forward without intending to. "Maybe it's good news." What was the harm in saying it? It couldn't hurt anything. She was wrong anyways.

He looked at her. "It's not. He's dead. I know. I just...know now. He's gone." He wasn't speaking about a supernatural knowledge. He simply knew because of experience.

She watched him take off his shoes and slide back into the space he would occupy for the night and cross his arms over his face. His breathing was even. Too even. Too controlled. Too slow.

She climbed the bed and put a hand on his chest.

"Why do these things keep happening?" He couldn't help asking. His voice was strained.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Jeremy."

He took a deep breath and dry-washed his face with his hands. He opened his eyes and stared at the foot of the bed.

"You know...there are some spells in my mom's grimoire...some homeopathic spells and breathing rituals...I could-"

"No."

He didn't look at her when he said it, and it stung a little like rejection. She remembered their conversation in the living room, so she had to ask because she still didn't believe that he was okay with her playing with his life. "Why not? I could channel you-"

And he finally looked at her. "No spells. No magic, I just-" he covered the hand on his chest with his own. "Not now." And he looked down again.

The mile away look on his face oddly made her feel better about his decline. He just wanted to feel loss, that familiar feeling, and nothing else. "Okay," she said and laid down next to him.

He scooped her closer so that she laid her head on his shoulder blade. As the minutes ticked by, they tangled even closer, both of her legs between his, and he fell asleep first. His face showed none of the worry and burden that were apparent when he was awake. She watched the way his eyelashes rested on his cheeks, looked at the mole on his right cheekbone, and swept at the tuffs of hair on each side of his forehead.

His week had just gotten worse. Hers had taken a small but important upswing. She felt secure for the first time in too long. This feeling of power, real or projected, the feeling of standing on solid ground while everyone around her waited to hear what she had to say, while everyone _had_ to listen, this feeling was familiar. It was recognizable, and she was finally feeling comfortable in her skin again. She would go out tomorrow, just walk the block. She didn't care about how the future looked: bleak, dark, dangerous. She'd had a good day; she felt good being in the present again, and she hoped the feeling continued. And the sleeping boy in front of her had played a hand. Again. She smiled. He'd willingly played a hand, and then she'd taken over and used him to play her hand.

She'd played her hand, and whatever happened next, she had taken a look at the pieces in front of her, which included the pieces of her face on the floor, and she'd made a move. In this instance 'Next' both mattered and did not matter. It mattered because she was beginning to feel like herself again. She was returning to a position she liked to occupy.

And 'Next' did not matter because she was beginning to feel like herself again. She was returning to a position she liked to occupy.

**THE END**

**A/N: **The end! It seems that while Bonnie's reached a happy medium, she's left everyone else floundering. Elena never would've expected this from Bonnie. Caroline just heard that her best friend is willing to let her die; Matt just realized that he allied himself with the people who've caused him pain; Tyler hasn't broken his sire bond but might have another chance; and Jeremy still has issues with Elena. I think that calls for a sequel! How does the "Family" party scene in an AU 3.21 play out after the events of AU 3.20?

Speaking of Jeremy, I talked a bit about his feelings wrt the compulsion and only teased how he felt about the ghost arc and cheating on Bonnie. I have a fic in the works for him that's completely his pov. It takes place during his time in Denver and explores why he did what he did during the ghost arc. I view it as a companion piece to this fic since Jeremy's apathy is the same, so I'll be posting it before the sequel.


End file.
